


Whisper Your Love and I'll Whisper Mine

by asroarke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, POV Bellamy, POV Clarke, Slow Burn, but if romeo and juliet had thought things through, implied past clexa, inspired by Still Star-Crossed, some romeo and juliet feels every now and then
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:34:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asroarke/pseuds/asroarke
Summary: “I am not happy about this either, by the way,” he sighed, recalling the horrified look on her face when she realized what the Commander was proposing. Bellamy had never planned on getting married. Octavia was enough of a responsibility. But when he debated the idea of marriage, he certainly never pictured his future fiancée would have such a disgusted reaction. Nor did he ever picture himself marrying a child of his family’s sworn enemy.Clarke glanced up at him, wiping away a few tears. “We should have never let them marry,” was all she said, and the guilt formed a knot in Bellamy’s stomach.A historical AU inspired by Still Star-Crossed where Bellamy and Clarke are forced into an arranged marriage in an attempt keep their families from going to war.Best Historical/Period AU in the 2018 Bellarke Fanwork Awards





	1. Story of More Woe

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here is the Still Star-Crossed inspired fic I've been working on for the last two weeks. It's going to deviate a lot from Still Star-Crossed (honestly, I think it fits more in the 100's canon than SSC, but if you squint). If you aren't familiar with Still Star-Crossed, it's basically a follow up to Romeo and Juliet where the families are back at fighting with each other and the prince decides that a marriage uniting the houses was a good idea, and cousins of both Romeo and Juliet get thrown into an engagement even though they hate each other. Then, they enemies to friends to lovers their way through the story and it's presh. 
> 
> Anyway, this has been rattling around in my head for a while now. So here it is! To make the Romeo and Juliet set up work, I did have to add an OC. I gave Kane a daughter that he named after his mother (y'all don't @ me, OCs are not my specialty and neither is naming characters). You don't need to have seen Still Star-Crossed to enjoy this, in fact it's probably better if you haven't because come chapter three it's going to be a very different plot. 
> 
> I threw on the major character death warning, but Clarke and Bellamy live. 
> 
> Title for this fic comes from one of my favorite songs: Whisper by Burn the Ballroom.
> 
> Also, this is my 20th work on ao3 and I'm really giddy about it. Okay, I'm done.

“Please, Vera. I can’t let you do this,” Bellamy pleaded, but she was already running up the steps… toward _him_. That Jaha boy. It was bad enough that Vera confessed she had fallen in love with someone other than who Marcus had chosen for her… but she just _had_ to fall for the son of her father’s sworn enemy.

Bellamy sucked in a breath, realizing he had already lost this battle. If he tried to object any further, she would just pursue him in secret. It was safer if she had someone she could trust nearby… it was better for Bellamy to concede rather than risk her pushing Bellamy away.

“You really came,” Wells Jaha exclaimed with a growing grin before embracing her, and Bellamy swallowed.

It was the middle of the night, meaning the chapel was full of lit candles. The streets had been nearly empty this evening, likely due to Commander Lexa’s celebration at the Palace. He glanced around, seeing Friar Titus rushing toward them.

“You cannot honestly think this is a good idea,” a woman snapped, and Bellamy glanced over at the small blonde standing just feet away from that Jaha kid. She had a nervous expression on her face, clearly as concerned about this union as Bellamy was. Her brow was furrowed, her lips pressed hard against each other.

“Lady Clarke, I have performed enough funerals for these two families for one lifetime. Perhaps love will succeed where violence has failed,” Titus explained, and Bellamy clenched his jaw. He knew exactly who _she_ was.

“You’re his sister,” Bellamy realized, giving the girl a once over. She was dressed in an opulent pink gown, nicer than any gown his sister had ever owned, even before they were cast into servitude. Her hair perfectly curled, similar to how Vera’s was. There was no mistaking that this girl was Jaha’s daughter. She had all the symbols of wealth and status dripping off her.

“Step-sister,” she corrected, narrowing her blue eyes over at him… likely trying to figure out his connection to the Kane family. It was not exactly obvious, of course. Bellamy and Octavia had spent most of their time since their mother’s passing as Marcus’ servants… just grateful that their godfather took them in. “Who are you?”

“No one of any consequence,” he murmured, glancing back up at Vera… who looked completely and utterly in love. Bellamy wished that brought him some comfort, but all he could see was how Marcus would break out into rage over the news that his only daughter married the son of his sworn enemy.

“Surely, you can at least see what a monumental mistake this is,” she sighed. At least he could agree with the Jaha girl on something.

“I do. Not sure why she would ever want to become a Jaha like you and your brother,” he muttered, and her head snapped back in his direction. He glanced over at her, noticing how her glare seemed to pierce right through him.

“I am not a Jaha,” she growled, and a smirk crept onto his lips.

“Of course not,” he teased, but her anger didn’t subside.

“I would rather be a Jaha than a Kane,” she snapped. He jerked his head forward, refusing to engage any further. Perhaps he was not a Kane by blood, but he was by loyalty. And he was not about to listen to some privileged daughter of Jaha lecture him about the Kane family.

* * *

 

Her mother and Thelonious had already retired for the night when Wells came sprinting in. She jumped up out of her chair, tossing aside her sketchbook, to see that her step-brother’s shirt was soaked in blood.

“What happened?” Clarke asked, rushing up to him, but he pushed her aside as he ran up the stairs. Clarke jogged after him, her mind reeling as she wondered whose blood that was. This certainly was not the first time someone had run into their home covered in blood, nor would it be the last… but it was the first time Wells did. He was not the kind of man to give in to violence, unlike the rest of this damn family.

“I killed someone. He attacked me first,” Wells explained breathlessly, making his way toward his room.

“Please tell me it was not—”

“His name was Atom. He was one of Kane’s men,” he interrupted, and Clarke’s stomach dropped. If Wells had killed anyone else, this might be okay… but it had to be one of _Kane’s_ men.

Clarke started helping him gather his things from his dresser, gathering enough warm clothes to get him through whatever journey he had ahead of him.

“Clarke,” Wells sighed, and Clarke was brushing away her tears.

“You can take my horse,” she decided, before tugging him toward the door. She had no way of knowing how much time Wells had before news reached the palace… before the Commander sent her guards to come retrieve Wells.

“You have to understand,” he whispered as the two of them ran back down the stairs, “He attacked me first. I did not want to hurt him,” he pleaded, and Clarke froze for a moment, examining his apologetic face.

“I know,” she reassured, before pulling him by the hand toward the door quietly. After a few more frenzied minutes, Wells was up on her horse, prepared to leave Polis before Commander Lexa could order his execution.

“Wait,” she heard someone shout, and Clarke could barely make out a tall man running up to them in the darkness.

She was about to tell Wells to go, but he stuck his hand up to stop her. As the man approached them, Clarke realized that she recognized him… the same man that was at the chapel just last night when Wells and Vera married.

“Lady Vera wanted me to bring you this,” he explained, handing Wells a letter. As the man stepped away from Wells, his eyes flickered to meet Clarke’s… his exhausted expression seeming to match her own. The two of them tried to talk Wells and Vera out of marrying, and Clarke had the sinking suspicion that their marriage is what sparked the altercation between Wells and Atom.

“Wells, you have to go,” Clarke reminded him, and Wells nodded somberly. Wells offered a sad wave as he took off, leaving Clarke alone with one of Kane’s lackeys.

“Atom attacked him first. I tried my best to calm him down,” the man explained, and Clarke’s eyes widened in response.

“You were there?” she asked, stepping toward him.

“Yes,” he sighed, his eyes downcast. She could barely make out his features out here in the dark but could see enough to recognize the tense brow he had yesterday. “Atom caught him sneaking out of Vera’s room from the balcony. I heard them arguing and ran outside to stop them before anyone heard,” he explained, shaking his head.

“Did anyone overhear?” Clarke asked, her eyes wide. As far as she knew, only a few people knew about the marriage… and it needed to stay that way for a while. After Thelonious’ men burned down a tavern on Kane’s side of the city last month, things were especially tense in Polis. If Kane found out his only daughter ran off to marry Jaha’s son, it could be the breaking point that would start a war within the city walls.

“No,” he replied, and Clarke let out a sigh of relief. At least it was still a secret.

Her eyes flickered back to him, her heart rate finally starting to slow down. She could barely make out his dark eyes in the dim light, but he seemed to be evaluating her too.

“Wait, if you were there, why didn’t you stop him?” Clarke asked, crossing her arms as she stepped toward him. He clenched his jaw as his eyes narrowed down at her.

“I tried,” he growled.

“Clearly not hard enough,” she snapped, and his jaw twitched as he ran his fingers through his curls. “Do you have any idea what will happen to Wells if they find him?”

“Oh, you know, I never thought about that,” he muttered sarcastically. “Of course, I know. I’ve been to enough of my friends’ executions to know exactly what his fate will be.”

His dark eyes were piercing into hers angrily, as if an accusation was being made. But it wasn’t Clarke’s fault that a member of _his_ family attacked Wells tonight. Wells was just defending himself.

* * *

 

Bellamy awoke to the sound of his sister screaming. He jumped out of bed, throwing his shirt over his head before following the sound of her scream. Everyone in the house seemed to be doing the same thing, but Bellamy pushed his way up the stairs so he could get to her faster.

“Octavia!” he shouted, before realizing what room everyone was heading toward… Vera’s room. Octavia stepped out of the room as other servants and Marcus filed in, and Bellamy’s chest tightened.

Then, he saw Octavia gesture with her head down the hallway, and Bellamy followed after her. He could hear the muffled sobs of various other servants as he walked past her room, catching a brief glimpse of Vera lying unconscious on her bed. No, not unconscious. _Dead_.

Octavia grabbed his hand and started tugging him quickly down the hallway.

“What happened?” Bellamy snapped as soon as they were out of earshot.

“She is not actually dead,” Octavia explained, and Bellamy’s eyes widened. He turned to look back at the crowd, but Octavia gripped his face and forced him to look at her. “I kept a secret from you. Vera begged me not to tell you.”

“Start explaining right now,” he huffed.

“She was devastated about Wells having to run. Friar Titus helped her with a plan so that they could be together again,” Octavia explained with a small smile, always the hopeless romantic.

“They were never supposed to be together at all,” he clarified, and she threw her head back in frustration. “What did Titus do?”

“He gave her something that would make her appear to be dead,” Octavia whispered, glancing over her shoulder before continuing. “She will wake up again in a few days. Wells is going to sneak back into Polis to come get her, and then they can run off and be together.”

Bellamy tilted his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We cannot just let Marcus think that his only daughter is dead,” Bellamy snapped, before Octavia started shushing him nervously. “I am serious, O. You and Vera must be out of your minds to think this would work.”

“It is what she wanted, Bell,” Octavia said defiantly, crossing her arms. He felt a pang in his chest at those words. Vera wasn’t much older than Octavia. She was raised in this house, fairly isolated from what the rest of the world was like. And while Bellamy wanted her to be happy, he also had more experience than she did… enough to know that this wasn’t going to be worth the risk.

Not to mention that this horrific plan depended on her trust in a _Jaha_.

* * *

 

“I think you should at least offer your condolences,” Emerson suggested to Thelonious, and Clarke caught her mother’s eyes widening in response.

“Why should I offer my condolences to the man who is the very reason my son is on the run? Or are we still pretending it is a coincidence that Atom attacked Wells?” Thelonious snapped, and Clarke redirected her attention back to the plate in front of her. Although, she had a hard time stomaching food ever since Wells left. She mostly just pushed it around her plate until her mother berated her poor manners.

“His only daughter died,” Emerson explained, before glancing around the table for someone to agree with him. Unfortunately, he would not get much sympathy from all of them, not after what Kane did to Clarke’s father all those years ago. “And you said so yourself that the Commander is watching your every move. It would buy a bit of goodwill from her if you at least extended your condolences to the man.”

Clarke glanced up, seeing her step-father press his lips tightly together as he thought it over. But before he could speak, Clarke heard the someone running toward their dining room. She glanced up, seeing Jasper rushing in breathlessly.

“Pardon the interruption, but I bring bad news,” Jasper explained, and Clarke’s eyes widened. “It is about Wells.”

“Is he back?” her step-father exclaimed, jumping up from his seat. Clarke kept her eyes focused on Jasper… whose eyes were solemn. _No_.

“He was found dead this morning,” Jasper almost whispered, and Clarke held her breath. “His body was found beside Vera Kane’s in her crypt.”

Then, Clarke heard a loud crashing of glass onto the floor, and she slowly turned around to see where Thelonious had thrown his plate to the ground out of anger.

“That makes no sense. Why would Wells even be there?” her mother demanded, and Clarke knew she had to confess what she knew… it was the only explanation that would make sense. Otherwise, the Jaha family would strike against Kane’s again.

“He married her,” Clarke confessed, keeping her eyes fixed on her own trembling hands. “They fell in love and married in secret. I was there.”

The rest of the room stood in silence, staring back at her in confusion and heartbreak. How was Clarke supposed to explain what happened?

After all, the idea of a Jaha and a Kane getting along itself was ridiculous enough. But falling in love? Getting married? Simply impossible. Unthinkable. There were only two people who could explain how it happened… and they were both dead.

* * *

 

“I am perfectly aware that everyone here has an allegiance to one of our city’s two powerful families,” the Commander explained, standing in between where Wells Jaha and Vera Kane rested. Bellamy glanced down at his sister, whose eyes were full of tears. “Polis has been ruled by this feud for generations. But I must ask that we all see what happened to these two children because of this feud. At least as we mourn, I hope we can all set aside our differences and recover as a community.”

Bellamy and Octavia were seated toward the back, far from the rest of the family. He wished it did not sting so much, but it did. He and Octavia loved Vera as much as the rest of them yet were not _quite_ family. He glanced over to the other side of the room, the side where the Jaha family and those loyal to them were seated. A flash of blonde caught his eye, and there was Lady Clarke seated between her parents, clutching both their hands as if she were about to break. He could see the guilt on her face… he recognized it as the same guilt he was feeling.

Bellamy _knew_ that Vera’s plan to marry Wells would backfire. In a city like Polis, there was no way for them to have a happy ending. Bellamy should have stopped her. Clarke should have stopped Wells. Then, maybe none of this would have happened.

Wells would have never killed Atom. Vera would have never faked her own death. Wells would have never heard of her death without receiving the letter Octavia sent him to warn him that she was actually alive. Wells would have never come back to Polis. Neither one of them would have taken their own life.

_They would both still be alive_.

And now, both houses have lost their heirs. Kane had no more children, and Jaha only had a step-daughter.

Bellamy hadn’t realized he had been staring until Clarke’s eyes flickered to his. He held his breath, only offering her a quick nod before turning back toward the Commander. At least there was one other person here who understood what happened and didn’t romanticize it as Octavia did. Too bad that other person was a Jaha.

“Lord Jaha, Lord Kane, please come here,” Commander Lexa said stoically. The two men made their way to her, keeping their eyes fixed on each other. “I bring you both together in peace. You have both suffered a great loss. Today, you will both put aside your disputes and lay your children to rest.”

Then, Bellamy heard something whizzing through the air… and within moments, chaos erupted in the room. “That monster’s son murdered Atom,” a voice boomed, and Bellamy glanced up to see a hooded man with a bow and arrow taking aim. He gripped Octavia’s arm and started pulling her toward the door frantically.

He could hear the shouting over the sound of men pulling out their swords… all shouting their grievances against the other family, listing which loved ones they lost last summer, lamenting of the tavern that had been burned to the ground, throwing accusations of how Wells and Vera died around…

“Home,” Bellamy said quickly, sensing the question on Octavia’s lips, and the two of them sprinted out of there before things got ugly.

* * *

 

“Please, can you just tell me why I am here?” Clarke pleaded, as Thelonious helped her out of the carriage. She winced in pain as her feet hit the ground, her ankle not yet recovered from being attacked at the funeral.

“The Commander has a plan to unite Polis, and we will do as she asks,” he replied, offering Clarke his arm. She swallowed, as they made their way up the Palace steps. The ride to the Palace was chaotic enough, with people fighting in the streets… one would think that Polis was at war with how everyone was acting.

Once inside, Clarke saw Lexa sitting on her throne with a frustrated expression on her face. Thelonious grabbed Clarke’s hand, halting her movement.

“Clarke, the Commander is about to ask something of you, and you need to agree,” he said sternly, and Clarke’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“I will not agree to something before I know what it is,” she huffed, and Thelonious sighed.

“I need you to agree today. We can find a way out of it tomorrow,” he explained, and Clarke nodded along. She took his arm again as they started to approach Lexa.

Then, Clarke spotted Marcus Kane standing beside… the same man Clarke kept running into. The one from the chapel where Wells was married in secret. The one who came rushing toward the Jaha side of town to offer Wells his wife’s letter. The one she caught staring at her during the funeral. _Him_.

His big brown eyes met hers, widening curiously. She could see a question on his lips, not that Clarke had any answer for him. Frankly, she never thought she would see him again.

“We are all here as you requested, Commander,” Kane announced, and Clarke clenched her jaw. There was once a time in her life where she could call Kane an ally… but now, she could only feel rage whenever she looked upon him.

“Let me be quite clear,” Commander Lexa announced, careful not to look right at Clarke as she spoke. “What happened today will not be happening again.”

“With all due respect, Commander, but Lord Kane and I did not start the riot that erupted here,” Thelonious clarified, and Clarke squeezed his arm nervously. She liked to think that she knew Lexa quite well… and knew for a fact that she would not respond well to the words coming out of her step-father’s mouth.

“No, you did not. But the feud between your two families was the catalyst,” she snapped, before accidentally making eye contact with Clarke. Quickly, she jerked her attention back toward Kane. “You all know that our city faces great threats outside its walls. I cannot have a city divided when our enemies are waiting just outside our gates. So, I have proposed a plan to unite us all.”

Clarke glanced up at Thelonious, who looked completely calm. Her eyes were boring into him, pleading for him to offer some kind of an explanation, but he offered none.

“I believe that your children had the right idea when they decided to marry. A marriage between the two houses of Polis is the answer we have been searching for.”

Clarke glanced past Thelonious, seeing the young man standing beside Kane tense up. Then, his eyes met hers with a panicked expression. Neither of them liked where this was going.

“I have brought my godson, Bellamy Blake, who will now serve as my heir,” Kane announced, and Bellamy’s eyes grew even wider. At least Clarke was not the only one who had no idea what was going on.

“And I have brought my step-daughter, Clarke Griffin,” her step-father said, and Clarke glanced back up at Lexa… whose eyes softened for just a moment, as if to apologize for what she was about to do.

“As Commander of Polis, I order the marriage of Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin to cement your two families as allies instead of rivals. Your families have proven that they cannot coexist as two, so you must now become one,” she commanded, clenching her jaw as she spoke.

Clarke gripped harder on Thelonious’ arm, fearing that she might faint in response. Lexa just ordered her to marry a _Kane_. Clarke barely escaped the funeral riot earlier today, with the help of Jasper and Monty. But she couldn’t even make it out unscathed. How the hell was she supposed to survive the uproar this marriage would cause?

She caught Lexa’s eye for a brief moment, before Clarke jerked her head to the side. She wasn’t going to accept the nonverbal apology Lexa was about to offer her, not when she basically just condemned Clarke to death.

* * *

 

“I am not marrying her,” Bellamy snapped, and Marcus glanced over his shoulder nervously before turning back around.

“Yes, you are. The Commander has ordered it,” he replied calmly. Bellamy’s lips twitched at those words. It wasn’t like he or Clarke really had a say in the matter if the Commander ordered it. But he wasn’t even supposed to be Marcus’ heir. Maybe back when his mother was still alive and he had a higher status, but not now.

“I am literally your servant,” Bellamy huffed bitterly, several years’ worth of resentment escaping his lips all at once. His mother asked that Marcus take them in if anything happened to her, but he doubted that servitude was what Aurora Blake had in mind.

“Not anymore. Bellamy, I have no other children, no nephews or nieces. You and Octavia are all I have,” he explained, and Bellamy turned his head slightly to see Clarke engaging in a similar argument across the room. “We cannot be the family that disobeys the Commander. Then, Jaha will gain favor again and his men will be free to roam our streets and get away with murder. Do you want that?”

“You are forcing me to marry a Jaha,” Bellamy growled, before Marcus gripped Bellamy’s shoulders with a stern look on his face.

“What do I have to offer you to make you agree?” he asked, and Bellamy let out a groan. There was nothing he could offer that could possibly compel Bellamy to marry into _that_ family.

“I won’t do it.”

“What if I raised Octavia’s station too? She would no longer have to be a servant, she could marry well,” he offered, now having Bellamy’s complete and undivided attention. For a moment, he had forgotten Octavia. If Bellamy consented to being Kane’s heir, Bellamy could _actually_ protect his sister. He could give her opportunities that she couldn’t even dream of as a servant. She could have the kind of life she should have had.

Bellamy pulled away, swallowing. There wasn’t a choice to be made… not now that he knew what this could do for his sister.

“Fine,” Bellamy mumbled, glancing over at where Clarke was last standing… but she was no longer there. Marcus marched past Bellamy toward the Commander, and Jaha joined him. Bellamy strode back into the room, careful to stay far away from whatever negotiations were taking place.

A flash of blonde caught his eye for the second time today, and Bellamy tiptoed over toward Clarke. She was standing behind one of the large pillars, resting her back against the marble.

“I am not happy about this either, by the way,” he sighed, recalling the horrified look on her face when she realized what the Commander was proposing. Bellamy had never planned on getting married. Octavia was enough of a responsibility. But when he debated the idea of marriage, he certainly never pictured his future fiancée would have such a disgusted reaction. Nor did he ever picture himself marrying a child of his family’s sworn enemy.

Clarke glanced up at him, wiping away a few tears. “We should have never let them marry,” was all she said, and the guilt formed a knot in Bellamy’s stomach. Perhaps this was their punishment for what _they_ let happen. Bellamy should have tried harder to keep Vera away from Wells, should have told Marcus, should have stopped her from marrying him…

Bellamy glanced over at Marcus and Jaha, seeing them breaking into a squabble. He could see the Commander already frustrated… but they were only just getting started. At least before, their fights were limited by how frequently they had to see each other. But now, they were doomed to be family, which meant it would only get worse. They would argue about dowries, about wedding locations, about peace treaties between them. It would never end, no matter how the Commander tried to terminate the conflict.

He looked back at Clarke, who was studying him closely. Her brows were furrowed and there was clearly a question on her lips.

It was finally sinking in for him. This was the woman he was supposed to marry, a privileged girl from the Jaha family who he knew nothing else about. And he could see her coming to the same realization about him, with a slight panic in her eyes.

“Why do you look as if marrying me is a death sentence?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“You were there today,” Clarke replied, crossing her arms. “You saw how quickly they all turned on each other.” Bellamy let out a sigh, recalling how quickly he dragged Octavia home… although there was already fighting in the streets before they were safely inside. “A forced marriage cannot fix that.  Especially not one between two people who despise each other.”

Bellamy forced out a chuckle, throwing his head back slightly. “Still not a death sentence,” he teased, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

“Do you really think the Commander’s orders will keep you and I safe? That the angrier members of my family won’t try to kill you or that yours won’t try to kill me?” she asked, and Bellamy could feel a weight resting on his chest. Perhaps it was just the chaos of the day, but he had not even gotten that far in thinking this through.

It was no secret that the people of Polis did not want peace. No, they were all quite content being angry and blaming each other for generations’ worth of grievances. Past commanders had done all they could to force peace, and it always backfired… his marriage would be no different.

“Perhaps for once, Polis will accept peace,” he sighed. “Do you really think this will fail?” he asked, although he was fairly certain it would. After all, Wells and Vera married out of love. But he and Clarke were going to marry by force, and unless they put on a show for their families, they would all know it.

“Ideally, I think it could work. Then, I start asking what happens after we marry, like which side of town would we live in?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, and his stomach dropped. He could never safely live on her side of the city, not as Marcus’ heir. And she would essentially have to be trapped in the house if they were to live on his side of the city for her own safety.

“Clarke,” Jaha shouted, and Bellamy saw Marcus waving him over as well.

“Don’t worry. I have no intention of marrying you,” Clarke whispered before brushing past him.

Bellamy stood there for a moment, frozen, watching her make her way up toward her step-father. He swallowed when she glanced back at him, trying to make sense of what she meant when she said she had no intention of marrying him…

They didn’t have a choice in this, not really. So, why was she so certain that they could get out of it?


	2. Civil Blood Makes Civil Hands Unclean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Thanks for all the encouraging comments last chapter! I'm glad you guys are as excited about this fic as I am! So, this chapter and most of the next one are following pretty closely with the Still Star-Crossed plot, and then I'll throw my own little plot twist in there. Love you guys! Thanks for the love!

“Should I be concerned that you’re not dressed?” Raven teased as she closed the door behind her. Clarke let out a sigh, lying back down on her bed. Words could not describe how badly Clarke wanted to stay home tonight.

“I still have time,” Clarke sighed. Her hair was basically done already. She just had to get that damn corset back on and pick out a dress.

“I take it your discussion with Lord Jaha did not go well,” Raven mused, and Clarke clenched her eyes shut.

“It is like talking to a wall,” she groaned. She wasn’t sure what she should have expected. It was not like Thelonious was going to find a grand solution to her forced engagement in a few days. But Clarke had assumed he would agree with her that it was a terrible idea. Now, she was not so sure. In fact, he seemed like he was planning something.

“Get up. Don’t you want to look nice for your fiancé?” she teased, and Clarke scoffed. “Hmm, same reaction as yesterday. Does that mean you don’t want to know what I learned about him?”

Clarke sat up quickly, narrowing her eyes at Raven who had the biggest smirk on her face. “Have you been on Kane’s side of town?”

“It’s not like it’s as life or death for me as it is for you. No one recognizes me,” Raven shrugged.

“Okay, what do you know?” Clarke asked, the curiosity getting the better of her. After all, Clarke didn’t even know his name until just a moment before she was forcibly engaged to him.

“His mother died some years ago, which is how he and his sister came to be under Kane’s care,” she explained. “Her name is Octavia, by the way. She might be there tonight.”

“Octavia,” Clarke sighed, nodding along. She could remember that. Perhaps she could keep talking to his sister so she didn’t have to talk to him. “Wait, if they’ve been living under Kane’s roof, why have I not met them before?” Clarke realized. She had run into Vera Kane many times over the years… Bellamy and Octavia should have been no different. Perhaps she wouldn’t have known them well, but she would at least be able to recognize them from various events over the years.

Raven’s lips twitched as she sat down on the bed beside her. “He has been living in Kane’s estate, yes. But not as his ward, as his servant. Both of them, actually,” Raven replied, and Clarke’s brows furrowed.

“I had no idea,” Clarke sighed, and Raven grabbed her hand.

“Aww, you’re starting to feel bad for him,” she teased, and Clarke pulled her hand away before throwing herself backwards, now staring up at the ceiling.

“Well, that wasn’t right,” Clarke muttered. “That does not mean I like him, though.”

“God forbid you let yourself like the man you are about to marry,” Raven snickered, and Clarke let out a louder groan. Raven stood up, moving over to Clarke’s dresser. She could hear Raven going through her dresses, muttering things about how pretty Clarke would look for her future _husband_.

She was about to snap at Raven when she heard the sound of a door slamming outside her bedroom.

“You are expected at the Palace as well,” Thelonious shouted, and Clarke jumped up and ran to her door. Raven followed, and the two of them pressed their ears to the door.

“Tell the Commander I am still in mourning. It hasn’t even been a week,” her mother snapped back, and Clarke swallowed.

“Oh, you and I both know that’s not the reason you refuse to attend,” he growled, and Clarke shared a nervous look with Raven. The two of them had been fighting constantly since the night of the Commander’s decree.

“You are the real reason I won’t go. You are marrying my daughter off… to the son of the man who killed her father,” she shouted back, and Clarke pressed her forehead to the door, tears threatening to fall.

“Bellamy is not Marcus’ son. He is a Blake, not a Kane. He is only acting as his son for the sake of this treaty,” he huffed, and Clarke could tell they were getting closer to her door. “What was I supposed to do? Refuse an order from the Commander?”

“Clarke, what about the red dress?” Raven whispered as she tugged Clarke by the wrist. Clarke swallowed, realizing that Raven was trying to distract her.

“I thought you wanted to borrow it tonight,” Clarke replied, and Raven’s eyes widened in excitement.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you really trying to get drunk on our very first night back in society?” Octavia asked, pulling his arm down before he could take another sip of his wine.

“I am fine,” he sighed, but the worried look didn’t leave Octavia’s face. He knew how excited she was to be here tonight… and he just wished he could share her enthusiasm. “Look, I am just trying to get comfortable. Don’t worry about me.”

She opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted when Marcus came marching over toward them. “Have they arrived yet?” he asked, scanning the room.

“Lord Jaha, yes. Lady Clarke, no,” he replied, and Marcus turned to where Bellamy had gestured to glance over at Jaha.

“Abby didn’t come with him?” he asked, his eyes wide as he searched the room. He glanced over at Octavia who mouthed, “Lady Jaha” to him.

“I did not see anyone with him, no,” Bellamy replied, before a flash of gold jumped into his sight. He turned his head slightly, seeing Clarke enter the building. Her arm was linked with another woman’s, and the two girls were laughing about something. It was almost strange to see Clarke smiling… given the circumstances.

“Why are you so upset his wife didn’t come?” Octavia asked, and Bellamy turned his attention back to the conversation at hand.

“I think it is her way of saying she does not approve of the engagement,” Marcus sighed before taking a sip from his glass.

“No one approves of the engagement except for the Commander herself,” Bellamy muttered, and Octavia elbowed him in the side. “What? It’s not like she has a reason to oppose it except for the feud between the two families.”

Then, Marcus looked down at the ground… which Bellamy found suspicious.

“Is there a reason I’m not aware of?” Bellamy asked, furrowing his brows.

“She believes that I am who killed her first husband,” he whispered, leaning in toward Bellamy’s ear.

“Did you?” Bellamy snapped, before Marcus started shushing him nervously.

“Of course not. The Griffins were a neutral family. They were my friends once,” he murmured. Then, the Commander called Marcus over. He shot Bellamy a warning look before taking off toward her.

Bellamy glanced back at Octavia, expecting her to have as astonished of a reaction… but she was staring off into the distance. “O?”

“Is that her?” she asked with a small grin, and Bellamy turned to see that Octavia was indeed staring at Clarke, who had now been separated from her friend and was talking to Lady Collins.

“Yes,” he whispered, stepping in front of Octavia so she would stop staring at Clarke.

“You neglected to tell me that she is pretty!” she snapped, and Bellamy threw his head back in frustration.

“I did not notice,” he mumbled.

“Do not lie to me,” Octavia teased, and he clenched his jaw. Alright, he did notice. It was hard not to. Her pale blue eyes would be quite beautiful if they weren’t always glaring at him whenever he saw them. “Wait, shouldn’t you go talk to her? Aren’t you two supposed to be acting all romantic?”

With a groan, Bellamy downed the rest of his glass and handed it to Octavia. “No more teasing tonight, alright?” he pleaded, and she smirked back at him. With a sigh, he made his way over toward where Clarke was standing.

She was still talking with Lady Collins, although he could not tell what kind of conversation they were having since both they were both turned away from him.

“I had really hoped the rumors were not true,” Lady Collins huffed, and Bellamy stopped dead in his tracks. “I always thought you would end up betrothed to my son, not some former servant of Lord Kane.” Bellamy swallowed, looking down at the ground. He had expected some comments like this, of course. However, it didn’t make it sting any less to hear them for himself.

“He is Lord Kane’s heir, need I remind you,” Clarke snapped, and Bellamy’s head jerked up, a bit surprised by her harsh tone coming to his defense. “And even if he were a servant, I would much rather marry him than your son.”

With that, Bellamy unexpectedly started coughing… not prepared for Clarke to snap at someone quite like that, especially not at an event where she was supposed to be acting, well, ladylike.

“Oh, there is my beloved now,” Clarke said, and Bellamy pressed his lips together nervously. He glanced over at Lady Collins whose face was red with embarrassment. “We were just talking about you,” Clarke said with a sly grin.

“I assure you I heard nothing,” Bellamy lied, but Lady Collins knew Bellamy had heard enough. In a strange way, he enjoyed the humiliation she felt. Perhaps that would teach her to watch her tongue. “Might I borrow Lady Clarke for a moment?” he asked, extending his hand. Clarke took it quickly, shooting him a thankful look.

“If I have to sit next to her tonight, I might stab myself with a fork,” Clarke whispered as soon as they were out of earshot.

“Well, if you die by fork stabbing tonight, at least I won’t have to marry you,” he teased. As they walked toward the center of the room, Bellamy suddenly became very aware of how many people were staring at them. The engagement was not official, of course. But enough rumors had spread for everyone to be fairly certain it was going to be announced tonight.

He swallowed nervously. Never in his life had he been the subject of so much talk, of so much attention… but now, he was Kane’s heir. Which meant everyone would be watching him.

Luckily, the Commander called everyone to the table, preventing Bellamy from being approached by anyone else for the time being.

Unfortunately, Octavia was seated far from him… not that she seemed to mind. She was sitting beside the girl Clarke had walked in with, and the two of them seemed to be hitting it off.

But Bellamy was seated across from Clarke. She was beside Jaha, while Bellamy was beside Marcus… It was kind of sick that the Commander was putting Lord Kane and Lord Jaha right across from each other… almost as if she were daring them to fight.

On Bellamy’s other side was Lincoln, who Clarke introduced him too. He seemed nice enough, although not particularly talkative unless Clarke engaged him in conversation.

Honestly, Bellamy was having a hard time paying attention. There were too many people at the long table who kept shooting him and Clarke confused looks. And his stomach dropped as soon as Commander Lexa got everyone’s attention.

“Tonight, I welcome you all to our feast so we may celebrate unity in Polis,” she said with a large smile, and Bellamy noticed a strange twitch of Clarke’s lips as she spoke… she immediately went back to appearing as perfectly composed as she always was, but for a brief moment, it looked like something was wrong. “I know the past week has been tumultuous, but I believe the worst is behind us. As some of you have heard, the Kane and Jaha households will soon be combining into one through the marriage of Lord Jaha’s step-daughter and Lord Kane’s godson.”

At that moment, every head in the table jerked to their direction. Bellamy sucked in a deep breath, his eyes meeting Clarke’s for a fraction of a second. It seemed she was just as uncomfortable with the attention as he was.

“It is my hope that their love might serve as an example for the rest of Polis, that they might become a symbol for setting aside past differences to unite as a community,” she continued, and Bellamy’s chest tightened at the words. He never wanted to be a symbol. He just wanted to earn enough so that Octavia would be well taken care of.

“In the spirit of unity, might I make a proposal?” Marcus said, and Bellamy’s eyes widened as he turned to look at him. Marcus was standing up with a smug look on his face… one that Bellamy was not happy about.

“Of course,” the Commander replied.

“As you all know, Lord Jaha is approaching the completion of his cathedral. I believe it would make a spectacular location for this wedding,” Marcus explained, and slowly, Jaha got to his feet. Bellamy glanced over at Clarke, who had a panicked look on her face for some reason.

“I do appreciate the gesture, Lord Kane,” Jaha said through gritted teeth, and Bellamy kept his eyes on Clarke… pleading with her to offer some explanation for what was happening, since she clearly knew more than he did. “However, you and I can both agree that we shouldn’t keep our children waiting long for this marriage.” Bellamy looked down at his hands, praying for any delay for this wedding. “My cathedral will not be done for a while, so perhaps another location would be best.”

Then, Bellamy felt something tap on his shoulder. He glanced over, seeing Lincoln leaning toward him. “Piece of advice, always come to the Palace armed,” Lincoln whispered, and Bellamy swallowed. He had assumed that it would be safe to be unarmed in the damn Palace, after all.

“Well, we could wait. When will it be finished?” Marcus asked, and Bellamy noticed that Clarke and Lincoln were both sliding their chairs backwards… _in case they needed to get away quickly_.

“I am not about to discuss my business affairs with a _Kane_ ,” Jaha snapped.

“Still acting like you are better than us?” a voice coming from the other side of the table spat, and Bellamy could see everyone slowly reach for their weapons. Bellamy glanced up at Clarke in panic, but she was too busy scanning the rest of the table.

He didn’t even hear what was shouted over the sound of everyone’s sword being drawn at once.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you not see why your engagement is necessary?” Lexa snapped, and Clarke crossed her arms.

“My engagement is what provoked this. Thelonious and Kane are more hostile than ever,” she growled, still furious that Kane used their financial situation to humiliate them. She wasn’t even sure how he found out that construction on the cathedral had halted or that it was due to a lack of funds.

“Clarke, I am trying to reason with you. Please,” she sighed, leaning back on her throne with a frustrated look on her face.

“I am not the person who needs to be reasoned with. A fight broke out at your banquet because you are trying to force me to marry a Kane,” Clarke explained, now pacing in front of Lexa. “You have provided the two of them something far more important to argue over. Not to mention how many of your other nobles are infuriated by our potential union.”

“Because they see it as something forced,” Lexa groaned, and Clarke whipped her head around to look at her… not liking what she meant by that.

“Lexa,” Clarke said calmly, and she sat up straighter, looking at Clarke apologetically again.

“The idea is that despite your differences, you and Bellamy found a way to fall in love. That’s the story that will sell this peace. If the two heirs of our great houses can let the past go, then everyone else will follow.”

“Except that is not what happened. Bellamy and I do not even know each other,” Clarke sighed, throwing her head back. Before Wells’ wedding, she had never even seen Bellamy before. The two of them were never supposed to cross paths. “We cannot stand each other, and you are asking us to convince the entire city that we love each other.”

“What do you want me to say, Clarke?” Lexa shouted, standing up with a tense brow. “I wish it didn’t have to be you. I wish I had known about Wells and Vera… then, I could have protected them and used them as a symbol of peace and unity instead.”

“Please, you made the order for his arrest and were going have him executed!”

“Because he killed Atom!”

“Who attacked him! He was defending himself! Wells was a good man who should not have—” Clarke cut herself off with her own sobs. She hated everyone in this palace… their foolish feud got her brother, her friend, her _Wells_ killed. This feud was the reason Clarke would likely die too. This foolish plan was the reason Clarke wasn’t allowed to properly mourn Wells. She loved him, and she lost him, and all anyone else seemed to discuss was how forcing her into a marriage was going to make all the problems of the city go away. She felt Lexa’s arms wrap around her, but Clarke pushed away. “Do not try to offer me comfort when you are the one causing me the most distress,” Clarke snapped, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Lexa’s face faltered, the guilt creeping onto her features. “I will give you a moment. When you are ready, bring your fiancé to the throne room,” she whispered, and Clarke fell to the ground and began heaving.

It only took her a few minutes to recompose herself. After a few deep breaths, she made her way toward the hallway.

She located Bellamy in the corner, whispering with Octavia who seemed pretty rattled by the ordeal. Octavia was the first to notice her. When Bellamy turned around, his jaw was tense.

“The Commander wishes to meet with us,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy glanced back at Octavia… who nodded as if to say that she would be alright.

“I will go grab Marcus,” Bellamy sighed.

“No, just us,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy’s eyes widened in confusion. He pondered it for a moment, and Clarke glanced over at the destroyed dinner table where servants were frantically trying to clean up.

When she turned back around, Bellamy was begrudgingly offering his arm. With a forced chuckle, Clarke took it and the two of them made their way toward the throne room in silence.

 

* * *

 

 

There was a strange tension in the air as he and Clarke made their way toward the Commander. He had suspected based on the redness in Clarke’s eyes that she had been crying at some point but didn’t want to point it out. And the Commander… well, she seemed rattled.

“I have moved up your betrothal ceremony to tomorrow,” the Commander announced, and Bellamy swallowed. After tonight, Bellamy had assumed that the Commander would at least reconsider this ridiculous plan. It was clear that none of the nobles supported the marriage, since each of them had loyalties to either Kane or Jaha. “What happened tonight will not happen again, I promise.”

“How can you be so sure?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy clenched his jaw nervously.

“Because it will be a spectacle. There will not be a person in attendance who will doubt the love you two have for each other, understood?” she explained, her voice booming as she spoke.

“With all due respect, Commander, but the people of Polis will not be easily fooled. We are from opposing houses. We hardly know each other. It is not exactly a believable story,” Bellamy sighed before glancing over at Clarke, who was worrying her bottom lip.

“The two of you will find a way to make it believable. I have already met with Lord Kane and Lord Jaha, who have both agreed to do their part. The only thing the two of you need to worry about is looking like you are madly in love tomorrow,” she replied, before waving them off. The two of them hurried out of the throne room as a few ambassadors came filing in.

Once the doors were shut behind them, Bellamy let out a loud sigh. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Pretend we like each other,” Clarke muttered, still walking down the hallway. Bellamy jogged up to catch up with her, grabbing her wrist to turn her around.

“This is serious, Clarke. Look at what happened tonight.”

“And that was just with the nobles, I know,” Clarke snapped back. “It will only be worse tomorrow in front of a much larger crowd.” With a huff, Clarke turned back around and kept walking.

“Jaha, what is your problem?” Bellamy shouted before thinking better of it. Quickly, Clarke whipped her head around with a murderous look in her eyes. He immediately realized his mistake.

“I am not a Jaha,” she growled, stomping toward him furiously. “And you know what my problem is.”

“Enlighten me,” he snapped, crossing his arms.

“Lord Kane figured out that Thelonious cannot afford to finish the cathedral and used our wedding as a way to force him into admitting that,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy furrowed his brows. That would explain why Marcus looked so damn smug earlier. He was trying to humiliate the Jaha’s in front of the nobles.

“I did not know he was going to do that,” Bellamy sighed, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him, studying him closely to see if he was telling the truth. But it was not like Marcus shared his plans with Bellamy. Hell, Bellamy walked into this castle unarmed. He was the least informed person here, it seemed.

With a sigh, Clarke resumed her walk down the hallway. Bellamy followed after her, offering his arm as soon as he caught up to her. They might as well look the part when they reentered the ballroom.

“What are we supposed to do?” Bellamy whispered, realizing that this might be his last time to talk with her before the betrothal. Clarke glanced up at him with a pensive look on her face.

“Act like two people in love, I suppose,” Clarke replied.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Bellamy muttered without thinking. He nervously glanced over at Clarke, whose eyes softened for a brief moment as she studied him.

“Well,” Clarke said before biting her lip. He let out a sigh, feeling stupid for letting that slip off his lips. “Perhaps you should avoid scowling every time you have to touch me. I feel like that is a good place to start,” she offered with a weak smile, and a chuckle escaped from the back of his throat.

“Perhaps you should take your own advice,” he teased, and he was met with a small giggle from Clarke.

Bellamy did not much care for Clarke. But he had to appreciate the fact that he wasn’t completely alone in this disaster. The two of them were the only ones who really understood what happened to Wells and Vera and were essentially cursed to pretend to be them. Neither of them was born into this feud yet existed in it anyway.

Sure, Bellamy had his sister. But Octavia was romanticizing this whole thing, arguing that Bellamy could find a way to be happy with Clarke. At least Clarke was as cynical as he was about this whole nightmare.

He glanced over at Clarke as they reached a halt. She looked a bit pensive as she looked about the room, and her words came back into his head, the ones she whispered the night they became engaged.

“What did you mean when you said you had no intention of marrying me?” he had to ask. If she was planning something, he needed to know about it. After all, it could backfire, and he could be punished for it. She at least owed him this much.

She glanced up at him with a small smirk. “That I do not plan on marrying you. I thought that much was clear,” she teased, unlinking her arm from his. “Goodnight, Bellamy.”

 

* * *

 

 

Thankfully, her mother did show up at the betrothal ceremony… although Clarke suspected that Lexa had to specifically order it.

The crowd was still gathering, and Clarke felt her nerves set in. She found herself counting swords, looking for bows and arrows. After the funeral and the banquet, she couldn’t be too careful. The last public execution she had to attend ended in a similar manner, and Monty had to physically shield her as she made her escape.

“The Commander has installed guards throughout the crowd. It is subtle, but it should keep you safe,” Lincoln whispered, and Clarke nodded. “And there is your fiancé now.” Clarke turned her head to see Bellamy approaching with two men she did not know trailing not far behind. “I believe that is John Murphy to his left and Nathan Miller to his right. Childhood friends, if my intel is to be trusted.”

Clarke glanced back at Lincoln with a smirk. “How much have you been spying on my fiancé?” she teased, and he pressed his lips together.

“Only as much as the Commander requested,” he whispered, and Clarke’s eyes flickered over to where Lexa was seated. Of course, she asked Lincoln to look into Bellamy. “His sister is not here,” Lincoln observed, and Clarke started looking for her where Kane’s family was seated. But he was right, Octavia was not here.

 “Maybe last night was a little much for her,” Clarke mused, remembering that it was probably Octavia’s first taste of what life at court is truly like. “Or perhaps Bellamy did not want to endanger his sister’s life by having her present at the very event that might result in both our deaths.”

“Clarke, you two will be safe today. No one will try something while the Commander is here as a witness,” he whispered, and Clarke swallowed. He had a point.

Lexa was stepping forward, addressing the crowd. Clarke stepped away from Lincoln, making her way toward Bellamy who was doing his best to force a grin. He reached his hand out toward her, and Clarke reluctantly took it. He lifted her hand to his lips, before pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. She could feel hundreds of eyes on her in this moment, despite the Commander still explaining their engagement and how it was a symbol for peace in Polis.

The eyes that Clarke felt the most intensely were Bellamy’s. His dark eyes were focused quite intently on her, and she could still see last night’s question in his eyes. He wanted to know what Clarke was up to… not that she had any specific plan at the moment. Everything she came up with would backfire or get them both hurt. She needed to find a way to prove to the Commander that this plan would not work without endangering their lives.

As Bellamy offered her a forced smile, it all started to click for Clarke. It was a very real possibility that she might end up married to him. He might very well be her husband soon, and there was little she could do to change that.

She only snapped out of it when Lexa called for them to come forward. She took Bellamy’s arm as they approached her, and Clarke kept her eyes focused on a window in a distant building, since it was far too terrifying to look at Lexa or any of the confused faces in the crowd.

“You should be happier. After all, you’re getting engaged to the love of your life today,” Bellamy teased, and Clarke bit her lip, suppressing a small smirk at his sarcasm.

They took their place in front of Lexa, who immediately began the binding ceremony. “Today, you present yourselves before your Commander, your families, and all of Polis to declare your promise of marriage,” Lexa announced as she wrapped the cord tightly around their joined hands. She could feel her own hand shaking in Bellamy’s, and she let her eyes meet his. He nodded at her, his eyes softer than they normally were, as if he were trying to comfort her. “I bind you now as a symbol of this promise.”

Bellamy opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when someone shouted, “Commander!”

Clarke jerked her head up, looking out into the crowd for the owner of that voice. She felt Bellamy’s hand tighten around hers. She glanced at him, seeing that he was looking up. She followed his gaze to the top of one of the surrounding buildings. There was a hooded man dressed in all black standing on the rooftop, holding a sword in one hand and a torch in the other.

“Might I offer a wedding gift to bless this cursed union?” the man shouted, before tossing the torch down onto a pile of hay that quickly caught on fire. Clarke got tugged back toward the main stage by Bellamy, who likely forgot that they were still tied together. The fire was quickly spreading throughout the square.

The crowd was already in chaos, running in every direction to try and get away from the fire. Their screams were so loud that Clarke did not even hear the explosion that threw her to the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

When Bellamy was finally able to lift his head up, he saw bodies lying everywhere. He was grateful that he insisted Octavia stay home for own safety. He wished he wasn’t right about today, but of course, he was.

He glanced beside him and held his breath when he realized that Clarke wasn’t opening her eyes. “Clarke,” he said quickly, leaning over her. He cupped her face with his free hand, trying to get her to wake up.

Her bright eyes jerked open in a panic, furrowing her brows at him.

“Come on, we have to go,” Bellamy huffed, helping Clarke sit up. Quickly, he got them both to their feet and started pulling her toward one of the alleys opposite the explosion.

Breathlessly, they ran, brushing into countless people doing the exact same thing.

“Stop,” Clarke groaned, and Bellamy turned to see Clarke pulling a small dagger out of her sleeve, before cutting the cord that tied their hands together.

“Do you always keep a weapon in your sleeve?” he asked, eyes wide as she started tugging the cord off them.

“Yes,” she huffed, throwing the cord the ground. Then, Bellamy felt a shadow pass over. He glanced up, seeing the man from the rooftop jump to another building.

Without thinking, Bellamy started following. There was something off here.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Clarke asked, following after him. He glanced back at her, seeing that defiant look in her eyes that irritated him to no end.

“Following him. Get back to your side of the city. You’ll be safer there,” he explained before taking off again.

“Like hell I will,” Clarke shouted, and he could see her persistently keeping up with him.

“Clarke, if something happens to you, your father will kill me. Go home,” he ordered, but Clarke was not listening. Her eyes were focused on the rooftops.

“No,” she finally snapped, looking back at him stubbornly. “I want to know which of our houses is responsible.” Then, she took off. With a groan, Bellamy started chasing after her.

He knew there was no point in arguing with her. The more he pushed for her to get to safety, the more determined she would be to get into more trouble. “I know a short cut,” Bellamy finally offered, tugging her by the hand down another alley.

They ran up the stairs at the end of the alley, before turning onto a bridge between two buildings, a bridge that he and his friends used to get drunk on when they were younger. Within seconds, the hooded man jumped from the roof onto the bridge. Bellamy pushed Clarke behind him as he pulled out his sword.

 

* * *

 

 

She had heard that Bellamy was good with a sword over the past week, but good was an understatement. It took him only minutes to knock the sword from the man’s hand, before pinning him to the railing.

When Bellamy lifted the man’s hood, Clarke swallowed. It was not one of her family’s men.

“Dax,” Bellamy growled, tightening his grip around the man’s collar. “What the hell were you thinking? The Commander will execute you for this.”

“She is not _my_ Commander,” Dax spat back, and Clarke’s stomach dropped. She knew there had been unrest in lower town due to some of Lexa’s recent decisions but had hoped that in time it would subside. “What the hell are you thinking? Marrying that bastard Jaha’s daughter?”

“I am trying to stop a war. You just killed dozens of people,” Bellamy yelled, and Clarke saw Dax’s lips twitch up into a crooked smile.

“You two can’t stop the war. My Commander won’t allow it,” he smirked.

“What does that mean?” Clarke asked, stepping forward. Bellamy held his arm out protectively, barring Clarke from getting any closer.

Clarke thought back to the moments before the explosion, realizing that Dax never revealed his allegiance to Kane’s house, despite clearly being from his side of the city. This was not just the act of one household attacking another. He hurt people from both sides.

Dax was trying to start chaos, not trying to kill off members of Jaha’s house.

“Bellamy, we have to take him to Lexa,” Clarke realized, and Bellamy turned his head back to look at her in confusion. “He knows who is behind the chaos at the funeral. They are all related,” she explained, her mind working faster than her mouth.

When she glanced back at Dax, she could see a hint of fear in his eyes… telling her that she was onto something.

Before Bellamy could say anything in response, Dax pushed him backwards into Clarke. She caught him quickly, the two of them rushing back toward Dax. But it was too late. Dax jumped off the bridge. Clarke clenched her eyes shut at the sound of his body hitting the pavement.

“Clarke,” Bellamy whispered shakily, and she forced her eyes to open. He was peering over the bridge, likely looking down at Dax’s now dead body. “We have to go,” he said with panic in his eyes, and Clarke felt like she would throw up. If anyone saw them, they would both get dragged in to see Lexa, likely resulting in an execution for one or both of them.

She followed Bellamy back down into the alley, before Bellamy pulled her into a small alcove.

“What is going on?” he finally asked, and Clarke leaned her back against the wall, trying to catch her breath.

“He did not claim a house when he caused the explosion. He did not just target the Jaha’s, Bellamy,” she sighed. “This is not just our houses fighting anymore. Something else is going on.”

Bellamy furrowed his brows as he studied her, looking considerably less shaken than he did a few moments ago. “You think someone is trying to provoke our families into fighting,” he realized, and Clarke nodded along. “And Dax probably knew who that was. So, he jumped to his death before the Commander could torture it out of him.”

“It is a good plan. Both houses are already prepared to blame each other, which has already provoked fighting in the streets again,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy let out a groan.

“Things were better when the Commander first made her decree that any murder would be punished by death,” he muttered, shaking his head rapidly. Clarke blinked a few times, thinking that over.

Things did calm down for a while… until something else happened to cause the fighting to begin again. “Weeks after she made the decree, what happened?” she asked, her lips turning up into a small smirk.

“Your family burned down a tavern on our side of town,” Bellamy spat, and Clarke cocked her head to the side. He narrowed his eyes at her, coming to the same realization. “It wasn’t your men who burned down the tavern, was it?”

“And it might not have been one of your men who started the fight at the funeral,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy’s lips formed a half-smile. “Everything that has happened recently to escalate the feud may have been started by someone else entirely, perhaps this Commander that Dax was referring to.”

“Someone wants us at war with each other, but who?” Bellamy murmured, glancing out of the alcove to see if anyone else was nearby. But they were in a pretty abandoned part of town.

“I’m not sure. But if we figured it out, our houses would suddenly have a common enemy.”

“Well, that would unify the city far better than our ridiculous engagement,” he muttered. Clarke started grinning, and slowly, Bellamy turned back to look at her as the realization washed over him. “If we found this enemy, there would be no need for us to marry.”

“You seem to know Dax relatively well,” she recalled, and Bellamy crossed his arms, studying her closely. “I am sure you know of at least one person he might have confided in.”

“I could think of one or two, yes,” he replied, cocking his head to the side.

“So, we are agreed then? You and I will find who is behind all these attacks,” she announced, stepping out of the alcove. Bellamy followed after her with a small grin on his face.

“I look forward to not marrying you,” he teased. He held out his hand, and Clarke took it, shaking his hand in agreement.


	3. I Defy You, Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, the end of this chapter is where I start deviating from the plot of Still Star-Crossed (you will see what I mean). Enjoy the bickering (flirting) this chapter, because the next chapter is going to hit you in the feels. Thank you for all the great comments I've gotten so far. You're all wonderful and I love you!

To his credit, Bellamy did try to exit the estate without making a big fuss. But somehow, he forgot about his sister.

“And just where do you think you are going?” Octavia shouted as she made her way down the stairs, and with a groan, Bellamy turned around. “You would not happen to be going to see your fiancée, would you?” she teased.

“Yes, I am going to see Clarke,” he replied, crossing his arms. He could see her eyes widen with excitement, which made him feel a little bit guilty. After all, he hadn’t told Octavia what he and Clarke were actually up to in these past few weeks. He and Clarke agreed that they would not tell anyone else what was going on for their own safety… at least not until they had proof. It was better for Octavia if she knew as little as possible.

“I figured, since you spent such a long time on that letter,” she grinned, poking him in the arm.

“It was just a letter, O,” he groaned, although that was a lie. He and Clarke had formed a code of sorts, since he knew that any letter he received would be read by Marcus first, and Clarke was likely in a similar situation. If Jaha read her letters, all he would see was what appeared to be a love letter.

Then, Marcus came in from his study, giving both of them a curious look as he approached. “What are you two up to?” he asked.

“Bell is going to see Clarke again,” Octavia smirked, and Bellamy pressed his lips together. Marcus had both his eyebrows raised, although Bellamy knew Marcus was not surprised. He had implied many times over the past week or so that he had suspicions that Bellamy had developed a genuine affection for Clarke, which Bellamy did not disabuse him of. It helped cover up what he and Clarke were actually up to.

“If she lets anything slip about their cathedral, let me know,” Marcus sighed, and Bellamy cocked his head in confusion. “Did you not see that they resumed construction?” To be honest, Bellamy was not paying attention. He probably should be, since this damn cathedral was all Marcus seemed to care about.

“I thought they ran out of funds,” Bellamy murmured, and with a groan, Octavia made her way back toward the stairs… apparently bored with this conversation now.

“They did. Which means they had to do something fairly big to be able to afford those workers again,” he muttered, clearly furious that his plan to humiliate Jaha backfired.

“I will let you know if she says anything,” Bellamy replied, before making his way toward the door.

In general, things had quieted down around town. Both Lord Kane and Lord Jaha had done as the Commander asked, encouraging their own to keep the fighting to a minimum. It is amazing what people will do when there is a financial incentive involved, of course.

It still did not make him feel any safer about being on the Jaha side of the city. No one ever said anything to him, but the looks and glances were still there. He found himself copying Clarke and keeping a dagger tucked in his sleeve more often than not… and it kind of terrified him to think about what kind of experience would have given Clarke that idea in the first place.

When he got to the Jaha estate, Raven met him at the door with a teasing look in her eye. “You are awfully eager to see someone you don’t want to marry,” she remarked, leading him down the main hallway to the room that Clarke was often in when he came by.

“Might as well get to know her if I’m going to marry her,” he lied, and Raven scoffed.

“I’ve read your letters, Blake,” she teased, and Bellamy let out a groan.

“Those were for Clarke,” he reminded, and Raven elbowed him in the side with a smirk.

“Whenever she gets a letter from you, Jasper snatches it out of her hand before she can even open it. It is not her fault,” she said with a grin, and now Bellamy knew exactly why Jasper kept winking at him last time he stopped by.

When he walked into the room, Clarke was seated across Jasper, playing chess, while Monty was reading in the corner. “So, you have been reading my letters, Jordan?” Bellamy asked, and Jasper nearly jumped in shock. Clarke burst out laughing, throwing her head back as Jasper tried to stutter something out. “Did you at least enjoy them?” he teased.

“Pretty sure he copied one of them verbatim for one of his letters to Maya,” Monty shouted from across the room.

“I did not,” Jasper shouted back, and Clarke mouthed “he did” to Bellamy with a smirk, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Check mate,” Clarke announced, leaning back in her chair, and Jasper’s attention focused back to the board with an annoyed look on his face.

“Monty, come beat Clarke for me,” Jasper groaned, studying the board closely, but Clarke was already standing up with a triumphant smirk on her face.

“Perhaps next time,” she teased, before walking over to greet Bellamy.

“It was lovely to see you all again,” Bellamy said. He ignored Raven’s smirk as the two of them exited, especially as Clarke took his arm.

“We have a problem,” Clarke whispered as soon as they were back in the hallway. “The wedding is being moved up.”

Bellamy turned his head quickly, widening his eyes at Clarke. “Does this have anything to do your cathedral resuming construction?”

Clarke looked genuinely surprised that he had known about that, almost impressed. “Lexa paid what was owed so that the wedding could be pushed up,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder to check for any servants who could overhear. But the house seemed relatively empty, which was rare these days. “Apparently, a few of the neighboring cities have gotten a bit more hostile and she is nervous that the current peace between the houses is not going to last long without something more solid to hold it together.”

“She is talking about Azgeda, right?” he huffed.

“I am assuming so, yes,” she sighed, and Bellamy nodded along.

“Well, we have our work cut out for us, don’t we?”

 

* * *

 

“Cage Wallace is not one of mine. The Wallace house is relatively neutral,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy nodded along. “Do you know the name of the man he meets with here?”

“No. I just heard that the two of them meet at this tavern every day, meaning someone here knows who it is,” he explained quietly. Honestly, Bellamy did not actually need Clarke’s assistance for this, and they both knew it. The only reason she was here was because this tavern was on her side of the city. No one would defy Thelonious’ orders for peace when Clarke was there as a witness.

Clarke waved over at Niylah, who had her hands full. She let out a sigh, leaning back in her seat. It was a busy day, but she knew Niylah would get to them as soon as she could. Clarke should be thankful this was going to take a while. This plan with Bellamy was a nice distraction from the fact that today was her father’s birthday or that she usually spent this day with Wells.

“How is Octavia?” Clarke asked, and a small smile crept onto Bellamy’s lips. She had learned early on that his sister was the easiest way to put him in a good mood.

“Nosy, like Jasper,” he smirked, and Clarke rolled her eyes. Of course, she read Clarke’s letters too. “I am afraid it will break her heart when she finds out you won’t be her sister-in-law.”

“I will still be her friend,” Clarke chuckled, and Bellamy raised his eyebrows.

“You think a Kane and a Jaha can be friends?” he smirked.

“I am not a Jaha and she is not a Kane,” Clarke pointed out, and Bellamy rolled his eyes. “I see no reason why a Griffin and a Blake cannot be friends.” He started chuckling. “Bellamy, I am serious,” she groaned.

“Oh, I know you are. You have that serious face right now,” he teased, gesturing to her face, and Clarke furrowed her brows at him.

“I can be friends with Octavia, just like I am sort of friends with you,” Clarke huffed, and Bellamy threw his head back in laughter.

“You and I are not friends,” he reminded.

“What else would you call us?” Clarke snapped back. There was no other convenient term to describe their relationship. They had spent too much time together in the past few weeks, gotten to know each other a little too well. And sure, he annoys the hell out of her on most of their little excursions, but she cannot honestly say she _hates_ him still.

“Forcibly engaged in a desperate attempt to stop our families from burning this city to the ground,” he smirked, and in a huff, Clarke grabbed his glass from him and started drinking quickly. Bellamy erupted into laughter at her irritation, so she made sure to leave him nothing in his glass. “That is the least ladylike thing I’ve seen you do, and I once overheard you tell Lady Collins you would rather marry a servant than her son,” he chuckled, and Clarke slid his glass back to him.

“Well, her son is a philandering ass who broke Raven’s heart,” Clarke muttered. “And you,” Clarke snapped, pointing at a still chuckling Bellamy, “are not my friend anymore. I am back to hating you.”

“No, you do not. I am your _friend_ ,” he teased. Luckily, Niylah came over before Clarke could properly rip his head off for being such a pain today.

“You said you had a question for me,” Niylah said, sitting down across from them. She gave Bellamy a once over, a little sternly… which Clarke could only assume was because of the feud.

“Yes, I heard that Cage Wallace frequently meets a friend here. Do you know who that friend is?” Clarke asked, since Niylah was more likely to tell Clarke than Bellamy.

“I don’t know his name, no. But I would recognize him anywhere. In fact, he has been coming here every night this week,” Niylah replied, and Clarke raised an eyebrow at Bellamy. “Cage has not been in, though.”

Clarke already knew that much, of course. She had been very quietly trying to find out where Cage Wallace went, since he basically disappeared a week ago.

“His friend, though, will be back tonight?” Bellamy asked, and Niylah turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. Then, she nodded.

“Thank you,” Clarke said, before grabbing Bellamy by the hand. She started pulling him toward the door, offering the nicest smiles she could manage at the few men who glared at them on their way out.

“Your step-father will not be happy if I keep you out that late,” Bellamy sighed once they were outside.

“Raven is covering for me. Plus, he and my mother are attending some event early this evening. He likely will not notice I am gone,” Clarke explained, leading him toward the town square.

“That still leaves us a few hours before Wallace’s friend returns,” Bellamy groaned. “Should I take you back home in the meantime?”

“No need,” Clarke decided, realizing that this was the perfect opportunity to stop by her old house without her family knowing. She used to go there with Wells a lot when she was missing her father. “I will walk myself.”

“I am not letting you walk about unaccompanied,” Bellamy groaned. “If anything happened to you, Lord Jaha would murder me, literally.”

“What is going to happen to me on the Jaha side of Polis?” Clarke retorted, crossing her arms. “You are in far more danger there than I am.” With that, she turned around and started heading back to her side of town, ignoring the loud groan coming from Bellamy as she did.

 

* * *

 

One of the few benefits of having spent so much time with Clarke was that Bellamy always knew when she was lying. Like just now… he knew there was no way in hell she was going straight home.

So, he followed her. She was not even heading in the direction of her estate. Instead, she was moving toward the more neutral part of uptown. Eventually, she reached her destination… which looked like an abandoned estate.

He sat there for a few moments, pondering if he should confront her or not. On one hand, what Clarke does is completely her own business and he should not care. On the other hand, she was lying to him about something. Considering their brief partnership depended on the little trust they had in each other, he found himself getting angry that she was keeping something from him.

So, he followed after her, quietly creeping into the building. It took him a few minutes to find Clarke. In fact, he heard her quiet sob before he saw her.

“Clarke?” he called out, now more concerned than angry. He turned the corner, seeing that Clarke had her back against the wall and had sunk to the ground. Her head shot up to glare at him, her eyes red from tears.

“You followed me?” she snapped, and he swallowed. “Of course, you did,” she groaned.

“Well, forgive me for being concerned when you lie to me, Clarke,” he replied, stepping into the empty room. It looked as if no one had been in here in years. There wasn’t a piece of furniture in sight. “Why are you here?”

“I grew up in this house,” Clarke murmured, wiping her tears from her cheeks with her thumbs. “Normally, Wells would have brought me here today, but he isn’t here anymore either,” she whispered, and Bellamy’s chest tightened. _She came here to grieve._

He looked around, realizing that this was likely the last place she ever saw her father… and he understood. He too had snuck into his old home a few times over the years, desperate to feel some kind of a connection to something that was no longer here.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here, but I was worried,” Bellamy tried to explain, and Clarke’s head tilted up curiously.

“Worried?” she huffed, and he swallowed. “You were not worried. I am not even your friend, remember?” He could tell she was trying to tease him, but it did little to hide the pain behind the words. He opened his mouth to argue with her, to concede that yes, they were friends… but he knew the damage was already done. He had already mocked her attempt at defining him as her friend, and he couldn’t just reverse his stance now.

“I’m sure Jasper and Monty would have brought you here. You didn’t have to be alone,” he offered, and her jaw clenched slightly at the suggestion.

“What comfort could they have offered me?” she muttered, looking up at the ceiling. “Their fathers weren’t murdered by their sworn enemy. They didn’t lose their closest friend when all he tried to do was be with the woman he loved. They aren’t being thrown into a marriage with someone who _hates_ them. I am alone in this, and not one of my friends could make that feeling go away,” she explained, and Bellamy felt his own eyes start to water.

Without thinking, he crossed the room and sat down beside her. “You are not alone in this,” he whispered, keeping his eyes fixed on the other side of the room. He could see Clarke tilt her head toward him out of the corner of his eye. “I was there too, remember?”

“Stop. You don’t have to—”

“I am trying to be nice to you for once. Just let me talk,” he interrupted, because of course she as going to be stubborn even when he was trying to get along with her. “I lost Vera the same way you lost Wells. She might not have been my sister, but I loved her all the same. My mother died because of this horrible feud. And now I am engaged to you, despite never wanting to be.” He turned his head now, looking down at her. Her blue eyes were narrowed at him, but she was at least listening… which was more than he could usually say. She was normally busy interrupting him. “You and I are in this nightmare together. You are the only other person who witnessed what happened to Wells and Vera, and you are the only person who could possibly imagine the guilt and anger I have been feeling.”

Clarke swallowed, nodding slowly. Bellamy reached over and grabbed her hand. “Bellamy, there is no one watching us. You really don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do,” he sighed, tightening his grip on her hand, “because you are upset, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this.”

She blinked a few times in confusion, the tears catching on her eyelashes. He kept his eyes focused on hers, trying to make sure she took what he just said seriously. The two of them may tease each other and pretend they can’t stand each other, but somehow, she had become his friend. And it was clear that she needed to know that she had a friend, one who actually knew what she was going through.

With a sigh, she turned and faced forward. But she didn’t let go of his hand. “Thank you,” she finally whispered, before leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Anything for my nemesis turned fiancée turned friend,” he smirked, and a small giggle escaped her lips, drowning out the sound of her sobs for a brief moment. He squeezed her hand, before leaning his head toward hers.

 

* * *

 

“Do you ever get angry about the fact that our actual families had nothing to do with all this?” Bellamy whispered, and Clarke let out a sigh. The two of them had been at the old Griffin house for at least two hours now. They were both lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “I mean, the only way I’m connected to Marcus is because my mother didn’t really know anyone else well enough to ask them to be my godfather.”

“And the Griffins were neutral up until my mother made the ridiculous decision to marry Jaha,” Clarke finished his thought, turning her head to glance over at him. “Yes, I get angry about it a lot,” she admitted. It was as if the two of them were being punished for just being loosely connected to the original feud.

“Why did your mother marry him, anyway? Do you remember?”

Clarke swallowed, fixing her attention back toward the ceiling. “It’s complicated. Did you know that she and Lord Kane were once quite close?”

Bellamy’s head popped up to look at her, with a confused expression dancing across his features.

“He apparently made a proposal, which her father made her reject,” Clarke explained. “Marrying him would have meant picking a side of the feud and he wanted her to stay neutral for her own safety.”

“Yet all those years later she chose to marry a Jaha?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke let out a sigh.

“Well, when she found out Kane had killed her husband, it seemed as though we were already on Jaha’s side of the feud. Honestly, I think she accepted his proposal just to spite Lord Kane,” Clarke replied, and Bellamy fell silent. She glanced over at him, noticing he had that look in his eyes like he wanted to say something. “Alright, what is it?” Clarke groaned.

“Nothing,” he muttered, and Clarke sat up to glare at him. “Okay, Marcus told me about your father dying. He told me that you and your mother thought he killed him, but he swore he did not.”

“There was a witness who saw him do it, Bellamy,” Clarke clarified, and Bellamy threw his hands up defensively.

“Alright, then he lied to me. I apologize,” he murmured, and Clarke lied back down. She glanced over at the window, seeing that the sun was finally setting. They would not have to wait much longer to go back to the tavern.

The two of them fell back into their comfortable silence that they had been enjoying for hours, only hearing the sound of each other breathing on the floor beside them. It had been at least an hour since Clarke stopped crying, and a half hour since she last felt a pang in her chest when she thought of her father.

Minutes passed, and Clarke’s mind drifted back to Wells. She wondered what he would think of her situation. Wells had always been adamant that when his father passed he was not going to perpetuate this feud. He was always the peaceful soul who could not understand how ancient grievances escalated to the horror that the feud became.

“Do you think they found peace?” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy turned his head to look at her.

“Who?”

“Wells and Vera.”

“I hope so,” he murmured with a hint of skepticism in his voice. “I like to imagine that they are both up in heaven, happy together.”

“But?”

“They hardly knew each other,” he sighed, reaching his hands up to rub his temples.

“I’ve had similar thoughts,” Clarke reassured. “But I am choosing to believe that what they had was the real thing. That they are both finally in a place free from the feud, together.”

“I know. That is what I keep telling myself too,” he replied, his eyes now focused back on the ceiling. “And she loved Wells. He was all she spoke about for days.”

Clarke felt her lips turn up in a grin for the first time in hours. At least Wells got to be loved like that. Most people go their whole lives without that kind of affection. “That’s sweet.”

“No, it was annoying,” Bellamy groaned, and Clarke found herself giggling at his annoyance. He turned back to glance at her, smirking slightly. “I had to listen to her and Octavia go on and on about how handsome Wells looked at the ball, or how romantic he was when he snuck up her balcony. It was as if something clicked and he was suddenly consuming all her thoughts.”

Clarke threw her head back with a soft smile, imagining how in love Wells must have been with Vera. After all, he risked a lot by spending that much time on Kane’s side of Polis. He decided to defy his family and marry her. And he loved her enough to come back to Polis, even with the warrants for his execution, to say goodbye to the girl he loved when she died. He might not have been as obviously giddy or romantic as how Bellamy had described Vera, but Clarke could tell he loved her so much that he would do anything for her, even risk his own life.

“I pity your sister when she falls in love for the first time. You seem like you would be insufferable when that happens,” Clarke teased, and Bellamy groaned so loudly it echoed.

“I fear she already has,” he muttered, and Clarke turned onto her side, her eyes widening.

“Please tell me it’s Lincoln,” Clarke pleaded, and Bellamy clenched his jaw… telling her that she was right. “He keeps asking me about her. It is adorable.”

“Good God,” he groaned.

“He is a good man, Bellamy. Trust me,” Clarke said.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“You do trust me, don’t you?” Clarke snapped, and Bellamy just shrugged in response. “Alright, we are not friends anymore,” she huffed, and Bellamy burst out laughing.

“That lasted about two hours. Not bad,” he teased. With a groan, Clarke turned her head in the opposite direction.

 

* * *

 

“I think I should have taken you home,” Bellamy realized, and Clarke immediately sighed.

“We have been over this. You are safer in this part of Polis if I am around,” she replied, but it didn’t make the nervous feeling in Bellamy’s chest go away. Niylah had pointed out the man to Bellamy when he walked inside, and now he and Clarke were waiting for him to come out of the tavern. “Besides, you are my fiancé which makes it your job to protect me. I will be just fine.”

He turned his head back to glare at her, but her smirk did not drop. “I have not forgotten how you took off after Dax. You are the kind of person who asks for trouble. There is only so much I can do,” he snapped, and Clarke rolled her eyes.

When the tavern door opened, he felt Clarke grip his forearm. But it was not the man Niylah pointed out. He glanced back at Clarke, smirking that she was a bit more nervous than she let on. “Are you doing alright?” he teased, gesturing to her tight grip on his arm. With a huff, she let go and Bellamy started chuckling.

Then, the door opened again, and Bellamy turned back around. It was _him_.

“Bellamy,” Clarke whispered, and he held up his hand. “I know him.” Bellamy whipped his head around in a panic, his eyes widening. “His name is Emerson. He is Thelonious’ assistant.”

Bellamy turned back around, surveying the man walking away from them. The man they were looking for was one who was close with the Jaha’s, who likely knew all their secrets. Bellamy gestured for Clarke to stay behind him as he slowly approached the man.

The tavern door swung open again, and a drunk patron started screaming. Emerson turned around at the noise, and Bellamy accidentally made eye contact with him.

“Lady Clarke?” Emerson asked, looking behind Bellamy, and within seconds, he took off running.

“Come on,” Bellamy huffed, and the two of them started chasing him down the alley.

 

* * *

 

They finally cornered Emerson by the riverbank, and Clarke was out of breath by the time they got there. “Emerson, just tell us who hired you,” she pleaded, not liking how both men already had their swords drawn.

“I don’t know what you two are talking about,” he growled.

“This is where you meet with Cage Wallace almost every night, who has been orchestrating the several chaotic attacks that have happened in Polis in the past few months,” Bellamy snapped, his jaw tense. But Emerson was not looking at Bellamy. No, he was glowering at Clarke.

“Please,” Clarke said as calmly as she could, trying to diffuse the situation. “The Commander is reasonable and I’m sure if you come forward it will earn a lot of good will.”

Emerson scoffed at them, and then Clarke heard something whizzing through the air. Bellamy let out a sharp groan… because there was an arrow shot right into his leg. Clarke glanced up behind him, seeing the dark outline of a man on top of the rooftop above them taking aim. She flinched when he released the arrow, but she was not the target. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was Emerson… she heard his body slam into the pavement.

“Clarke, go,” Bellamy groaned, but her eyes moved back to the man on the rooftop… he was leaving.

“He killed Emerson to keep him from talking,” Clarke realized, before moving toward Bellamy. “Where did you get hit?” she asked.

“We need to take cover,” Bellamy snapped, but Clarke glanced up again. The man was gone. There were no more shots being fired tonight.

“No, he’s gone,” Clarke explained, and she finally saw the arrow was lodged into his thigh.

“He was a good shot, so how the hell did he miss when he shot me?” Bellamy snapped, and Clarke blinked a few times, thinking that through.

“He must not have wanted you dead,” she huffed, glancing at the wound once Bellamy yanked the arrow out. “Damn it, this is too much blood,” she snapped.

“He wanted to keep us from following him,” Bellamy said, and Clarke jerked her head up to look at him. He was right, of course. Otherwise, the hooded man would have pierced Bellamy in the chest and killed him. “Clarke, look at me,” Bellamy said sternly, and he gripped her hand in his. It was not until this moment that Clarke realized she was shaking. It was a battle to meet his gaze, but as soon as she did she felt relieved. His brown eyes were softer than she expected, as if to reassure her that they would be okay. “I have had far worse injuries. I will be fine,” he said.

“That’s them!” she heard a woman shout, and Clarke whipped her head around to see a woman in the distance pointing at the two of them… and right behind her were Palace guards. Clarke glanced back at Emerson’s dead body, realizing what was happening.

She glanced up at Bellamy who had the same panicked expression on his face. If they were about to be dragged to the Palace, that meant she would have to explain what they were doing to Lexa…

“Do you trust me?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her.

“Do I have a choice?” he retorted.

 

* * *

 

Bellamy had never been dragged anywhere in his entire damn life, and definitely not to a Palace where the Commander was waiting angrily for him and Clarke.

“Surely, this can wait until after his wound is taken care of,” Clarke snapped at Lincoln, who shot them both an apologetic look. He felt uneasy about Clarke asking if he trusted her… since that likely meant she was up to something.

“The Commander insisted on seeing you both immediately,” Lincoln apologized, but Bellamy saw a terrifyingly defiant look on Clarke’s face.

“Lincoln, I have this,” the Commander shouted as she rushed toward them. With a wave, she dismissed the guards who had their grips on him and Clarke. “What happened?” she snapped, glaring right at Clarke.

“A man shot two arrows, one killing Carl Emerson and the other injuring Bellamy,” Clarke explained, and the Commander’s eyes glanced at Bellamy curiously. “Please, he is going to bleed out on your throne room floor.”

The Commander evaluated Bellamy again with slight concern in her eyes. “Lincoln, get him to the medic,” she shouted, and Bellamy glanced over at Clarke who looked genuinely relieved. “Clarke, come with me,” the Commander continued, turning around as she made her way back to her throne.

“Trust me,” Clarke mouthed to him as Lincoln helped him to his feet.

In a matter of hours, Bellamy was all stitched up and put on bedrest in one of the Palace bedrooms. Every time his door opened, he expected to see Clarke, but it was never her. Marcus and Octavia came as soon as they heard the news and chatted with him for a while before heading home. A few nurses came in to check on him. Eventually, Lincoln made his way in.

“Where is Clarke?” Bellamy asked, wincing in pain as Lincoln helped him prop up his leg.

Lincoln’s lips twitched at the question, and Bellamy felt his body tense up nervously. “She asked me to tell you a few things,” he sighed, sitting on the edge of Bellamy’s bed. “First of all, when the Commander comes in to speak with you, you need to confess that what you and Clarke have been up to was entirely Clarke’s idea.”

“What?” Bellamy nearly shouted before Lincoln started shushing him.

“Trust me, it is the only way. Lexa will pardon Clarke, but she may not pardon you,” Lincoln explained, and Bellamy cocked his head in confusion. “The two of them have a complicated history.”

Bellamy shook his head before leaning back on his pillow. Clarke had implied before that she knew the Commander well, but she had never elaborated on what that meant. “What happened to Clarke?”

“She was sentenced to a few days in one of the Palace cells,” Lincoln replied, and Bellamy jerked up in a panic. Lincoln braced both his hands on Bellamy’s shoulders, pushing him to lie back down. “She will be fine. I am watching out for her.”

“She is in a jail cell for something both us did,” Bellamy snapped, and Lincoln clenched his eyes shut.

“I am going to pretend I did not hear that,” Lincoln muttered. “Look, Lexa is furious. She does not accept the story that Clarke told her about someone outside the houses trying to keep the feud going. But because of her history with Clarke, she is chalking it up to Clarke just being angry about her forced engagement.”

“Clarke is not that immature,” Bellamy muttered. Of course, the Commander was not taking this seriously. Tonight just confirmed everything he and Clarke had been trying to uncover.

“Well, Clarke did not exactly appear as calm as she normally does tonight,” Lincoln sighed, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow. “Lexa tried to get Clarke to admit this was your idea, and Clarke snapped at her rather viciously over it… certainly not the way she is supposed to speak to her Commander.”

Bellamy let out a groan, because of course, Clarke chose this moment to lose her temper. She was lucky the Commander did not punish her worse. “Can I at least see Clarke?” Bellamy asked, since it was clear he owed her at least a dozen apologies and thank you’s.

“Not right away. There are too many people watching her closely at the moment. But I can try to get you in to see her soon,” Lincoln replied, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut. “Would you like me to tell her something for you?”

“Tell her she’s not alone. She will know what it means,” he murmured, trying not to picture Clarke alone in some damp cell below the Palace… but it was all he could think about. God, he should have insisted on sending her home, or kept her out of the Emerson plan all together. “Does she at least seem okay? Is she scared?”

“She is… angry. Not scared, probably because she knows that Lexa cannot execute her as long as she is still planning on forcing you two to marry,” Lincoln explained. “Not a lot of good can come from executing half of the new symbol for peace in Polis.”

“Not a lot of good can come from one half getting shot with an arrow while the other rots in a cell either,” Bellamy grumbled.

Lincoln let out a sigh as he stood up, clearly frustrated with Bellamy’s poor attitude. “How frequently should I update you on your fiancée?” he groaned.

“Just as often as you can,” Bellamy conceded.

“It is sweet you care so much for a girl you pretend to hate,” he teased as he made his way to the door. Bellamy clenched his eyes shut as soon as the door shut. His leg was still aching, and he felt like he had not slept in days. To think, it was only hours ago that he and Clarke were lying in that abandoned house staring at the aging ceiling. It felt like a lifetime ago.


	4. Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love and support so far, guys! We're reaching our halfway point and I'm leaving you on kind of a cliffhanger. This one is full of the "platonic" feels.

Lexa did not believe her, or at least not enough to do anything about it. Clarke had no idea if she was telling the truth when she said she would look into it. All Clarke knew was that Lexa was determined in this plan to marry the two houses into becoming one. And there was nothing Clarke could do to stop it. She was to marry Bellamy Blake, despite having the knowledge that there would be no peace in the city coming from their union. It was pointless. They would marry, and this other Commander would burn down a school or murder a nobleman to reignite the feud. _It was never going to end_.

It was quiet in the cells, since she was the only one down here. She was still wearing her dress from three days ago, and she was itching for a bath. Lincoln had snuck down to see her a few times, asking her questions that she could only assume were from Bellamy. Lexa had come down once, pleading with Clarke to apologize for the way Clarke yelled at Lexa that night, but Clarke refused. Lexa deserved the wrath Clarke had held in all this time. And Clarke would gladly spend the rest of her nights in this cell knowing that at least one person called Lexa out on her desperate attempts at forcing peace in Polis.

She heard the door open, and she jumped up from the ground and moved over toward the bars. For a brief moment, she had let herself hope that it was actually Bellamy this time, since Lincoln implied that he would try to sneak Bellamy down here. But it was not Bellamy.

“I thought you would be happier to see me,” Thelonious sighed, and the door shut behind him… giving them a few moments of privacy.

“I am happy to see you,” Clarke replied, thankful to see anyone after her long hours of solitude.

“Well, you have certainly gotten yourself into trouble this time,” he teased, and Clarke let out a small chuckle. “Worry not, no one outside the Palace knows that you ended up behind bars.”

Clarke raised her eyebrows in confusion before thinking it through. Of course, Lexa did not want it to be common knowledge that she had Clarke locked up. Clarke and Bellamy were supposed to appear as willing participants in this marriage, and the truth about Clarke would negate that lie.

“I am sorry about Emerson,” Clarke said, and his lips twitched in response.

“I am not. He betrayed our house and I am glad he is dead,” he replied, and Clarke nodded along. “The Commander was planning on keeping you in here until your wedding day.” Clarke’s eyes widened, but Thelonious reached between the bars to grab her hand reassuringly. “I had to negotiate on your behalf. You will be released tomorrow into my care.”

“What does that mean?” Clarke asked, cocking her head to the side.

“It means you will not be leaving the estate unless I am personally accompanying you,” he huffed, and Clarke realized she was just being transferred from one cell to another. “At least until you marry that Kane boy,” he groaned.

“He is not a Kane,” Clarke snapped, and he rolled his eyes in response. “And what happened to your promise to help me get out of this marriage? As far as I can tell, you have done nothing to convince the Commander to call it off,” she huffed, thinking back to the way Thelonious implied the engagement was just temporary until he found a way out of it.

“At first, I was against it, but then I saw the bigger picture,” he replied, stepping back from the bars. She could see him surveying the cells in disgust. “You see, the promise of your wedding is how we are funding our family cathedral. And once you are actually married to the boy, well, we have a great deal more to gain.”

“And a great deal more to lose. After all, they are our enemy. The fighting will only get worse. There are people out there who will make sure of it. There will never be peace between the two houses.”

Finally, Thelonious looked back at her curiously before his lips twitched up into a dark smile. “I know that, Clarke. Which is why the house of Kane is going to fall.”

Clarke’s stomach dropped as she stepped back… trying to get as far away from him as she could inside her small cell. “What are you talking about?” Clarke stuttered out.

“They are a powerful, wealthy family. Tragically without an abundance of heirs,” he said, approaching the bars again. “Who do you think would be the head of that house if something were to happen to Kane and his godchildren?”

“You are out of your mind,” Clarke yelled, running over to him. He reached through the bars and gripped his hands tightly around her wrists… too tightly.

“You would only have to be his wife for a short while. Then, you will be a widow. And our family would finally be rid of that nuisance of a house that has plagued us for hundreds of years,” he growled.

“No!” she cried, trying to pull herself out of his grasp.

“You do not have a choice. Your Commander has ordered it and so have I,” he said sternly, letting go of her as he stepped back. “This will work. It has worked before and it will work again,” he smirked.

“What does that mean?” Clarke asked, but he was already walking toward the door. “Have you done this before?” she shouted, but he never answered.

 

* * *

 

“Clarke,” Bellamy whispered as he made his way over to her cell. Lincoln bought him a few minutes, and he was not about to waste any of them.

Clarke’s tearful eyes finally glanced up at him. She was resting her back against the wall, her head resting against one of the bars. Bellamy winced in pain as he crouched down beside her, his leg still aching from the arrow wound.

“You are not supposed to be out of bed yet,” Clarke murmured, taking the hand he held out to her. He squeezed her small hand gently, but it did little to reassure her. There was this devastated look in her eyes as she looked up at him… and it scared him. Lincoln had said Clarke had been in relatively high spirits given the situation.

“Did something happen to you? Are you hurt?” he asked, and Clarke pressed her lips together and shook her head. He let out a relieved sigh, since he had been agonizing over her for days now. He knew that Lincoln was being honest with him, often telling him things Lincoln was not supposed to. But Bellamy knew he would not feel better until he actually saw her. “Lincoln said you get to go home tomorrow.”

“Where I will likely be locked in my bedroom until our wedding day,” she murmured, using her other hand to wipe away her tears.

“Better there than in a cell, Clarke,” he reminded, and she let out a weak chuckle. “I am so sorry you are in here. I should have taken you home. This is all my fault.”

“I would not be in here if I had kept my temper in check,” she muttered, looking at their joined hands. After a few moments of silence, she glanced up at him with a nervous look in her eyes. “Besides, it is I who needs to apologize to you.”

Bellamy let out a huff. Clarke had never done anything wrong, except maybe be a bit too stubborn. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he corrected, but it did little to reassure her. In fact, she broke into a loud sob, leaning herself over her knees. “Clarke,” he whispered, sliding closer to the bars so he could reach her better. He placed his hand below her chin, forcing her to look back up at him. “What is wrong? Please, you can tell me anything.”

Her bottom lip was quivering as she studied his face, her blue eyes drowned out by the tears that filled them. His chest ached at the sight, but he had no idea how to comfort her. “The night you and I were engaged, Thelonious promised to get me out of this marriage. And he found a way,” Clarke murmured, but that did not explain why she was crying. After all, that was what she wanted… what _both_ of them wanted, of course.

“So, us not being able to continue our plan is not the drawback we thought,” he replied, furrowing his brows at her. “You and I will not have to marry, correct?”

“No, we will,” Clarke corrected. “His plan is to make me a widow, Bellamy,” she explained gravely, her eyes wide with fear. Chills ran up Bellamy’s spine at those words, and suddenly the shift in Clarke’s demeanor made sense.

“He is going to kill me,” Bellamy realized, and Clarke broke into another sob. He gripped her hand quickly, tightening it nervously.

“Not just you.”

Bellamy felt like he was going to throw up as he rested his forehead against the bar. _Octavia and Marcus_. Of course, Thelonious was going to wipe out the whole family. It was genius, actually. With this wedding, he would end up with both houses under his control if everyone else died.

Bellamy felt his hand shake in Clarke’s hand as his mind started running through possible plans. It was not like he or Clarke could go to Lexa with this and have it taken seriously, not without proof. He could not run and leave Octavia behind. He could not tell Marcus, or else Marcus would retaliate, and they would all be at war again.

“How do we get out of this?” he whispered, his own tearful eyes now pleading with Clarke. If anyone were to have a plan, it would be her. She was brilliant and quick and clever… she would have the perfect solution. She had to.

“A marriage requires two people, Bellamy. If one of us disappeared, it would not happen,” she murmured.

“I am not running away and leaving Octavia behind,” he snapped.

“I was not talking about you,” Clarke whispered. Bellamy blinked a few times, not sure he just heard her correctly. But her eyes were quite serious, and Bellamy found himself shaking his head rapidly.

“No,” he answered.

“I need you to help me get out of Polis. I have cousins not far from here who can help me get far enough away,” Clarke pleaded, taking both his hands in hers.

“Clarke, no,” he snapped. There was no way in hell he was letting her run away. She had lived her entire life in well-guarded estates. She couldn’t protect herself out there. So many horrible things could happen to her outside these city walls.

“Bellamy, we have to go,” Lincoln whispered, and Bellamy turned to see him peering in from behind the door with a panicked look on his face.

He glanced back at Clarke as he pushed himself to stand up. Her eyes were wide, pleading with him to say yes to her foolish plan. “Please,” she whispered, and Bellamy jerked his head away from those desperate eyes. He quickly made his way to the exit, his entire body tense as he thought over her proposal.

Once he got the door, he stole a glance back at Clarke, whose eyes hadn’t left him. Quickly, he was realizing all his reasons for saying no could all be boiled down to one terrifying fact: he was not ready to say goodbye to her.

 

* * *

 

Clarke thought a bath and a change of clothes would make her feel better, but when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she made her way to the throne room, she looked more broken than before.

Lexa dismissed everyone but her when she arrived, likely fearing whatever disrespectful statement was about to flow off Clarke’s lips.

“Call off my wedding,” Clarke pleaded, and Lexa’s eyes softened apologetically. “Bellamy and I are risking our lives with this engagement and it will only get worse if we marry.”

“You and Bellamy were risking your lives as you tried to get _out_ of this engagement,” she corrected, and Clarke glanced down at her hands.

“Lexa, please,” Clarke whispered. “My step-father implied that I may become a widow soon after marrying Bellamy. This whole charade will be for nothing if one of us gets killed, reigniting the feud all over again.”

“You have brought concerns of your safety to me before, Lady Clarke,” she replied, far more formal than she normally was when it was just the two of them. “And I have reassured you every time that the Palace will keep the two of you alive and well.”

“With all due respect, Commander, the recent riots the Palace has failed to prevent do little to reassure me,” Clarke growled, and Lexa stood up quickly.

“Let me be clear,” Lexa snapped, stepping toward Clarke with an enraged look in her eyes. “I am ordering you to marry Bellamy Blake. I am the Commander and that was my decision. I have a plan in place to make this happen safely, and it will be the first step toward lasting peace in Polis.”

“Please,” Clarke tried, softer this time.

“Do you have any idea how many spies I have found within our city walls? How many neighboring rulers are waiting for the right moment to lay siege to our city? I cannot afford to be weak,” she bellowed, and Clarke knew there was no point in arguing any further. This was about Lexa proving her own strength, meaning absolutely nothing would bring her to back down. “I will not have one of my orders refused, understood?”

“Yes, Commander,” Clarke whispered.

“Lincoln,” Lexa shouted as she stormed back toward her throne. Clarke heard the throne room doors open behind her, and she clenched her eyes shut. “Escort Lady Clarke to the Jaha estate and make sure she stays there.”

Lincoln murmured an apology as he led her outside.

“Is Bellamy still here?” she asked, panicked that she never got an answer from him about if he would help her.

“Taken home earlier today to recover there,” Lincoln replied, before turning to glance at Clarke. “Why are you two so determined not to marry? You two clearly care for one another.”

“He is my friend,” Clarke corrected, shaking her head.

“That is not what I saw when he came to see you,” Lincoln murmured. Clarke let out a sigh, since Lincoln clearly did not understand the situation. Of course, the two of them were emotional when Lincoln spotted them. She had found out that her step-father was planning to kill him and had just told Bellamy. Not wanting him to die did not mean anything more than that.

“I was locked up in that cell for days. Excuse me for being emotional when my friend visited me,” she snapped, and with a groan, Lincoln turned around to face her completely.

“There is not a person in this city who wouldn’t do anything to find what you are so desperate to walk away from,” Lincoln replied sternly. For a moment, Clarke wanted to tell him what she found out… but she could not risk him figuring out that she was trying to run and tell Lexa.

There was only one person she could trust to talk about this with… and she had to trust that he would decide to help her.

 

* * *

 

“What were you two even doing?” Octavia asked, smacking Bellamy in the chest. “You should never have been in a position to get shot by an arrow.”

“Well, I was not planning on getting hurt, O,” he retorted, leaning his head back on his headboard. Marcus had left hours ago, and Octavia had dismissed the servants for the night… likely so she could chastise him in private.

“Answer my questions, Bell.”

“Okay, you know how there have been all these attacks between the houses lately? More so than usual?” he asked, and she nodded along, narrowing her eyes at him. “Clarke and I figured out that none of them had been started by either house. There is someone else who is provoking us into fighting and we were trying to get to the bottom of it.”

“You should have just told the Commander,” Octavia huffed, crossing her arms.

“Spoken like someone who has never tried to reason with the Commander,” he muttered, and Octavia smacked his chest again. “O, you do not understand. She does not take anyone’s word unless they have proof, and that is what Clarke and I were after.”

“But why?”

“Because we thought that finding a common enemy for both houses would unite them better than our sham of a marriage. Then, we would not have to marry and could go back to our normal lives,” he explained, glancing up at the ceiling as he spoke. They were so close with Emerson… and that damn hooded man killed him.

“Why are you so determined not to marry Clarke? You care for her,” Octavia groaned, and Bellamy tilted his chin back down to look at her. He could not tell Octavia what Clarke told him yesterday. It would terrify her for no reason since there was a very simple solution…

… a solution he had been arguing with himself over since walking away from her cell. Logically, it was a smart plan. He and Clarke could not be forced to marry if one of them was missing. And it could not be Bellamy since he has Octavia to take care of. But he did not want Clarke to disappear either.

“She is only my friend,” he replied carefully, although his stomach tightened at that statement. _Friend_ did not seem to accurately describe what Clarke had become to him, not after how violently opposed his mind was to the idea of saying goodbye to her. The sight of her teary blue eyes and the sound of her broken sob had haunted him since leaving her. What he would have given to have a few more minutes with her that day…

“I heard she was taken home tonight,” Octavia said, and Bellamy let out a sigh. At least she was out of that damn cell. He was furious that the Commander kept her locked up for so long for something so foolish.

“Good,” was all Bellamy whispered.

“You are really just going to pretend that you are unaffected by this? That Clarke is just your friend? That you don’t actually want to marry her?” Octavia muttered, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut.

He really did not have a choice. He could not afford to stop pretending. It would hurt too much when he had to say goodbye if he did.

 

* * *

 

Days passed and still no word from Bellamy. She spent most of her days locked in her bedroom, unless Thelonious was home… in which case she was trapped in whatever room he was residing in.

Jasper and Monty sensed something was wrong, but Clarke could not be honest about what it was. She loved them dearly, but she also knew that their loyalties were supposed to be to the house first, then to Clarke. She could not reveal her hope to escape to them, since that would force them to make a hard decision about whether to tell her step-father. She couldn’t risk it. Then, there was Raven… who knew better than to ask Clarke what was wrong and instead tried to help distract her.

But Clarke still felt lonelier than ever. She found herself drawing more than she had in a while, often staying up until sunrise working on a sketch of Wells. She attempted to write a few coded letters for Bellamy, but there was nothing else she could really say. She laid out her logic to him already, she pleaded with him… and now she just had to wait for him to think it over.

Tonight, Clarke found herself tossing and turning more than usual. She had gotten a bit restless. After all, she spent days locked up in a cell and has now spent even more days trapped in the confines of her own bedroom. She was about to get up to grab her sketchbook when she heard a strange noise.

She turned her head, glancing at her window. Then, she heard it again… the distinct sound of something hitting the glass of her window. She got out of bed, waiting to see if it would happen again. And when it did, she rushed onto her balcony.

She glanced down at the ground below her, seeing Bellamy Blake himself smirking at her. “Did I wake you?” he teased, and Clarke could not help but roll her eyes.

“Does this mean you are actually going to help me?” she asked, leaning over the railing.

“Well, the way you put it, I either help you or risk getting murdered on my wedding night,” he retorted, and Clarke glanced back at her room. “Get dressed and meet me down here.”

“I am locked in here,” Clarke huffed, and Bellamy let out a groan.

“Great. Do you have any idea how risky it was for me to sneak onto the Jaha estate in the middle of the night, Clarke? Please tell me you have another escape route,” he groaned, and Clarke spotted the trellis beside her. It wasn’t ideal, of course, but she could climb down.

With a sigh, she ran back into her room and quietly got dressed. By the time she got back outside, Bellamy was pacing in the grass below her. She shut the door quietly, before climbing over the balcony railing.

“Please, do not fall to your death. If anything happens to you—”

“My step-father will murder you, I know. You have only said that a hundred times,” Clarke groaned, taking a careful step down the trellis.

“Just trying to remind you that my life is kind of in your hands,” he teased, and she could just tell he was smirking as she ungracefully climbed down this ridiculous thing.

“That is the opposite of helpful,” she muttered, and Bellamy started chuckling.

“Would it be helpful if I pointed out how slowly you are moving?” he teased.

“I hate you,” she groaned. She was making good time. She was already halfway down.

“No, you do not. I am your _friend_ , remember?”

Clarke whipped her head around to glare at him, but the action caused her to lose her balance. She lost her footing and started to slip. When she fell, she did not hit the ground.

She was hyperventilating as she looked up at the trellis, realizing just how far down she fell. She glanced behind her, realizing that Bellamy had actually caught her.

“What did I say about falling to your death?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Not to?” she teased before letting out a breath. “Thank you, by the way.”

“I do not know how I have kept you alive this long,” he grumbled, and Clarke rolled her eyes. He finally let go of her waist, and Clarke found herself immediately missing the contact.

He led her to where he left his horse, and Clarke glanced back at her house. If everything went according to plan, she would likely never see this place again… nor be welcomed back into it.

“Second thoughts?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke shook her head. “Clarke, if you don’t want to do this, it’s okay.”

“Do you have a better idea?” she asked, glancing up at him. She hoped he did. While she was not sorry to be leaving Polis or Lexa or her step-father, she loved her friends and her mother. Not to mention she would never see Bellamy again, who had somehow become her closest friend.

“I wish I did,” he whispered apologetically. After a few seconds of silence, he helped her up onto his horse before hopping on himself.

They rode out of the city in silence. Bellamy’s chest was warm against Clarke’s back, a sharp contrast to the chill in the air. She was not used to being this physically close with Bellamy. What contact they usually had was typically forced by their attempts at convincing others that they were actually in love. She was used to holding his hand, or the occasional peck on the cheek. But this was different…

It was more like their private interactions where Bellamy held her hand in the old Griffin house or where he cupped her cheek in that cell. It was comfortable and warm, which was a strange enough realization already.

“Clarke, I’m going to have to stop soon to rest,” he whispered after they had been riding for a while. “Still recovering from that time an arrow pierced my leg.”

Clarke swallowed, nodding in agreement… although she was already nervous that someone might find them before Clarke got far enough away. She would not put it past Lexa to send someone to drag Clarke back to court.

They found a secluded area hidden by trees to rest at. The two of them sat themselves up against the tree, not a word spoken between them. Clarke did not know what to say to him. Nothing seemed worthy of speaking at this point. Too much had happened between them. All Clarke knew was that saying goodbye to him was going to hurt and she was dreading it with every breath she took.

“Clarke, you’re cold,” Bellamy whispered, and Clarke had not realized she had been shivering. “Come here,” he said, gesturing for her to slide closer to him.

“Bellamy, this is highly inappropriate,” she reminded, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I just broke into your family’s estate in the middle of the night to help my fiancée escape the city so that she does not have to marry me. I feel like we are far beyond inappropriate at this point,” he retorted, and Clarke let out a huff. He raised an eyebrow, daring her to challenge him.

In the end, she slid closer to him anyway, ignoring the way her stomach flipped when he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer. For a moment, she remembered that this was a bad idea, that she was already crossing a line by being this close to him. Then, she remembered that she would likely never see him again… and she would miss his comfort.

She would miss _him_ too, of course. Even his obnoxious smirk or the way he groaned when Clarke told him something he did not wish to hear.

“Are you okay?” Bellamy whispered, and Clarke leaned into his touch, letting her cheek rest against his chest.

“Of course,” she lied. His arm tightened around her, and she let her eyes flutter close. She could hear his soft heartbeat, a reminder of why she had to leave. 

 

* * *

 

It took him several minutes to realize she had fallen asleep. He knew he should have woken Clarke up… but she looked so peaceful as she slept on his chest. And maybe Bellamy was selfish, just wanting a few more minutes of keeping her close.

All night he had this tight knot in his chest. He tried to play it off by teasing Clarke like he used to, but it did little to make that feeling go away. _Dread_ … that was what he was feeling.

Every second he spent watching her sleep, rubbing circles into her back, running his fingers through her curls… it was just another second closer to the moment where he would no longer be able to do these things.

He knew he should wake her up and resume their trip. But he also knew that the soft floral smell coming from her golden hair was the most beautiful scent he had ever encountered… and this would be the last time he would ever smell it. He knew that his arms would always feel empty without Clarke in them. He knew that he had never seen Clarke as at peace as she was here with him, and he would likely never see it again.

He wanted to memorize every detail of this moment so he could come back to it when he missed her. He wanted this to be the one he remembered, not the one where she was sobbing in her cell because she was scared for his life.

“Bell,” Clarke murmured, and his heart nearly stopped beating at the softness in her voice. He glanced down at her as she sat herself up, blinking her eyes open slowly. “I fell asleep?”

“Only for a few minutes,” he lied.

“Are you well enough to ride again?” Clarke whispered, and he nodded. With a groan, they both stood themselves up. Within minutes, they were both back on his horse.

He followed her directions, which lead them to a relatively small estate out in the country… far from any of the major cities. He helped Clarke off the horse, his hands lingering on her waist for perhaps a second too long.

“Stay out of sight when I get to the house. You should not risk someone witnessing you helping me,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy nodded quickly.

“Clarke,” he pleaded, and her blue eyes fluttered up to meet his. “If you have changed your mind, I can take you back to Polis. We could think of something else.”

“It is not worth the risk,” she replied sternly, and Bellamy blinked a few times at those words. The weight of that confession washed over him as he studied her sad eyes. Deep down, he knew the only reason Clarke was willing to run was because his life was on the line. She was doing this for _him_. “Besides, you wanted to get out of marrying me,” she teased, although the joke fell flat.

She pressed her lips tightly together as she glanced over her shoulder at the house. “Clarke,” he whispered. He should say something. After all, these may be the last words he would ever speak to her.

“I have to leave, Bellamy,” she reminded him, her eyes starting to water. He wanted to beg her not to go, but he knew she had to. And he could not go with her, not with Octavia needing him back in Polis.

“I know,” he replied, his voice breaking a bit as he spoke. Clarke reached up, cupping Bellamy’s cheek with her soft hand. He let himself be selfish for a moment, reaching his hand up to cover hers, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand.

She stepped toward him before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of her soft lips against his skin.

The kiss was over too soon. He could still feel her lips on his skin as she pulled away. He pulled her hand off his cheek, turning his head so he could press a kiss to her palm. He kept his eyes fixed on hers as he let go of her hand, his heart pounding at the sight of her broken smile.

“Goodbye, Bellamy,” Clarke said finally, her own voice breaking now.

“Goodbye, Clarke,” he replied, before watching her turn and walk toward the house. Bellamy guided his horse back toward the trees, hiding in the shadows as he waited to make sure Clarke got in okay. A woman answered the door, greeting Clarke with excitement as she brought her inside.

As soon as the door shut, Bellamy broke into a sob.

While he rode back to Polis, he found his mind drifting to all his moments with Clarke. How she berated him the night Wells fled to how she panicked when Bellamy was shot with the arrow. He remembered how she stood up to Lady Collins on his behalf at the banquet, and he remembered how sweetly she acted toward his sister. He thought back to all the times he caught Clarke smiling at children who were playing in the streets, or how she seemed to know everything about art.

As he returned to Polis, he had gone through every moment he had shared with Clarke since meeting her… and he felt hollow as he rode through the city gates. Emptier than he had when he left.

“Bellamy!” someone shouted, and he turned his head to see Murphy running up to him with a panicked look on his face. “Get back on our side of the city,” he ordered frantically.

“Why? What’s going on?” Bellamy asked, looking around. And that was when he noticed the smoke.

“Jaha’s cathedral was burned down last night,” Murphy explained, and Bellamy’s chest tightened. That meant that everyone loyal to Kane was in danger of being attacked. He did not hesitate to rush back home. His thoughts of Clarke finally left him alone for a moment as he worked through the panic of what the burning of the cathedral meant…

It did not matter if Marcus was responsible or not. Half of the city will blame him anyway and will want revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me. They won't be separated long.


	5. Did My Heart Love Till Now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this update. I've been having some health problems this week, but I'm back now! Anyway, thanks for all the comments so far, and I'm really excited about this chapter. It's a LOT of fluff. Some angst and miscommunication, but def a good chunk of fluff.

It took her weeks to get to the ship that would take her to Floukru. It would have been faster if Lexa had not have declared her kidnapped and had everyone looking for her. Then, Clarke would not have spent so much time hiding during the day and only traveling by night.

She thought she was strong enough to do this, to be on her own. But during those days she stole away in abandoned buildings, the loneliness got to her. In her weaker moments, she would let her mind drift back to her last night with Bellamy, the way he held her tenderly by that tree, the way his lips felt against her palm as they said their goodbyes. She would have to shake herself out of it quickly, the pang in her chest too sharp at the thought of him. And it was foolish, anyway. He was likely just helping her because it was their best option, being affectionate because that is how one is with their friends.

When the ship finally docked, Clarke grabbed her things and made her way onto the deck… only to be stopped by a tall bearded man. “Excuse me,” Clarke mumbled, trying to push her way around him, but he kept stepping in her way.

“Lady Clarke, you are not to get off this boat just yet,” he replied, and Clarke’s stomach dropped when she realized he knew exactly who she was.

“Who are you?” she snapped, furrowing her brows.

“Roan,” he replied, and Clarke raised an eyebrow at him.

“I do not want any trouble. I just wish to get off this boat,” she said calmly, trying to push past him, and he gripped her wrist tightly, pushing her back.

“And I am informing you that you are staying on this boat. It sets sail for Polis tomorrow,” he growled. Clarke sucked in a breath, taking another look at the man. He was too well dressed to work onboard this boat. In fact, he looked like he was _at least_ a nobleman.

“I am headed to Floukru, not Polis,” Clarke replied sweetly, already letting her dagger slip down her sleeve into her hand.

“And now you are going to Polis. Your Commander demands it,” he snapped back, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. He was not from Polis. She would know him by now. “I am here to rescue you from your kidnapping.”

“I was not kidnapped,” Clarke corrected, and a smirk settled on his face.

“Oh, I know that, but your Commander does not. Lord Jaha paid me quite well to make sure the Commander never finds out you ran,” he explained, and Clarke’s stomach clenched.

“Who sent you? Lexa or Thelonious?” Clarke demanded.

“The Commander is offering me quite the reward for bringing you back alive, and Lord Jaha is paying me quite handsomely to make sure she never finds out that you ran from your marriage like a _coward_ ,” he spat, and Clarke rammed her dagger into his side, before pushing past him.

She ran up the stairs trying to get to the deck, but the door opened and now two men were blocking her exit.

“We’re going to have to tie her up,” Roan groaned from behind her, and Clarke turned to look at him, hunched over with blood seeping onto his palm as he covered the fresh wound. “Put her in the back with her captor’s body.”

“What?” Clarke snapped, but the two other men had already gripped onto her, dragging her past Roan, before throwing her into another room. They did not bother to tie her up considering it was a windowless, empty room… well, almost empty.

Clarke shrieked when she saw Cage Wallace’s dead body lying in the corner.

 

* * *

 

 _Twenty-three dead._ Ten of Jaha’s men, thirteen of Kane’s… and those were just the executions. That number does not even account for those who died when the cathedral burned down, or the men who had a bit too much to drink at the tavern and could not defend themselves when some of Jaha’s angrier workers attacked, or the woman who was pierced by an arrow because one of the boys from Bellamy’s old street had bad aim, or that elderly man who got caught in the crosshairs while trying to talk two men from opposite houses out of killing each other. _Polis was at war with itself_.

If Bellamy were still a servant, he would have taken Octavia and run as fast as he could. But they were not servants anymore. No, they were the faces of one of the great houses of Polis. He could not just leave. Instead, he is forced to watch every execution before being dragged to the throne room with Marcus and the Jaha’s to be threatened by Lexa.

He agreed to meet Octavia and Marcus back at the estate, taking a detour toward the center of town… visiting the chapel where Wells and Vera married. Inside, there were many people praying quietly, some individually and others in groups.

Bellamy took a seat toward the back, far enough away that no one would notice him. The last thing he wanted was to get into an argument with some Jaha while visiting church. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wanted to believe that this would work out. After all, Jaha’s and Kane’s have been fighting for hundreds of years. It was just the way things worked in Polis. But it felt so much worse now.

“You came back,” Friar Titus whispered, sitting down beside Bellamy. This chapel had become a frequent place he visited since Clarke left. It was neutral. There were no Kane’s or Jaha’s here. Just lost souls looking for a moment without war. He found himself coming here when he was missing Clarke, or his mother, or Vera, or any of the friends he had lost since this war reignited.

He opened his eyes and glanced over at the friar. “I just needed to find some peace before I went home,” he replied, running his fingers through his hair as he leaned back.

“You have been given a great burden, I am afraid,” he replied, and Bellamy bit down on his lip. Bellamy never wanted to be Kane’s heir, not really. He was happy that Octavia’s station could be raised, but everything else that has come with it has been hell.  “But I believe you were given this task for a reason.”

“I was the last possible choice for this,” Bellamy corrected.

“I know what you and Clarke were up to, Bellamy,” Titus whispered, and Bellamy jerked his head in his direction in a panic. “I keep my ear to the ground. Do not be so surprised.”

“I would appreciate it if you would keep that to yourself,” Bellamy pleaded.

“I took a vow to protect your secrets, remember?” he teased, and Bellamy let out a sigh. “But what I meant was the two of you were trying to do something that no Kane or Jaha had tried to do before.”

Bellamy closed his eyes again, shaking his head slightly. “It mattered not,” he murmured. After all, he and Clarke lost any lead they had when Emerson was killed… and then he lost Clarke forever. Now, he was trapped in the middle of a war that he was powerless to stop. He just had to watch as the citizens of this city murdered each other until there was no one left.

The two of them sat there in silence, Bellamy’s mind now drifting to the flash of golden blonde hair that haunted his dreams. Hardly a moment went by that he did not think of her, that he did not worry for her. He was holding out hope that one day she would find a secure way to tell him she was safe, so maybe he would not have to spend the rest of his life wondering if she was alright.

“It is hopeless,” Bellamy muttered without thinking, and Titus rested his hand on Bellamy’s shoulder.

“Shall I offer you some words of comfort?”

“I do not deserve your comfort.”

“Bellamy, you come in here and discuss the fate of our city, but that is not the only thing that troubles you,” he said, and Bellamy nodded. “There are many people who come into this chapel every day and pray for Lady Clarke’s safety… from _both_ houses. That fact alone gives me hope. I hope it gives you some as well.”

Bellamy buried his face into his hands as Friar Titus walked away, his heart aching at the thought of Clarke. It was infuriating considering he had went his entire life without knowing Clarke and was fine without her. He spent almost all the little time he actually had with Clarke loathing her and fighting with her. And now she was gone, and he only had a handful of sweet moments to look back on. If he could have asked for anything, it would have been for more time.

Instead, he is haunted by how her soft lips pressed themselves into his cheek in her tearful goodbye and how small and warm she felt in his arms for just a few passing moments.

 

* * *

 

“I think she is waking up,” she heard someone whisper as Clarke blinked her eyes open. The room she was in blurred as she lifted her head up. Clarke desperately tried to remember when she fell asleep… but she could not.

“Clarke, you are okay,” Lincoln’s voice reassured, and Clarke turned to her left to see Lincoln sitting beside her on the edge of her bed.

“Roan brought you back safely,” Lexa explained, and Clarke clenched her eyes shut. _Roan_. That man who dragged her back to… _Polis_. Clarke sat up in a panic, realizing exactly where she was. She could not be back in Polis, not when the Commander could still order her to marry Bellamy and her step-father could murder him as soon as she did.

“Worry not, Lady Clarke. Cage Wallace cannot hurt you again,” Roan said, and finally Clarke located him in the room. He was smirking at her, knowing that she could not to a damn thing to contradict his story. She could not explain to the Commander that the injuries Clarke received were from trying to escape her _savior’s_ care, not without admitting that Clarke had willingly run away and disobeyed her orders.

“Clarke, lie back down. You need rest,” Lexa said sweetly, but Clarke’s eyes did not leave Roan’s. She was not sure how long she was knocked out for, but one of his men made sure she was out long enough for them to drag her all the way back to Polis. “Prince Roan, come with me.”

Clarke’s eyes widened at the title as Lexa and Roan made their way out of the bedroom. As soon as the door was shut, her eyes shot to Lincoln.

“He’s an Azgedan prince. Did he not tell you that?” Lincoln asked.

“We did not have much time to talk,” Clarke muttered, thinking back to the gag put in her own mouth before she could start asking questions.

“Did he tell you anything of what has happened in Polis since you were kidnapped?” Lincoln asked, and Clarke felt her chest tense up. She already had a list of names in her head, praying that he did not speak a single one of them. “Your family’s cathedral was burnt to the ground. Likely Kane’s doing.”

“He would not be so stupid,” Clarke muttered, knowing all too well that whoever was behind the burning of the cathedral was likely the same person behind all the other recent chaos.

“Perhaps not, but your step-father blamed him all the same. He retaliated,” Lincoln murmured, and Clarke clenched her eyes shut. She knew where this was going. If he retaliated, then Kane would have to retaliate on his retaliation, and it would just continue in one vicious cycle. “This city is essentially at war with itself, not to mention that Azgeda has become more hostile.”

“If Azgeda is so hostile, why is the Commander welcoming its prince into court?” Clarke huffed.

“Prince Roan was banished from Azgeda. Besides, he brought you back here,” Lincoln replied, and Clarke’s stomach turned.

“Why did the Commander go to such great lengths to get me back to Polis?” Clarke asked, and Lincoln shot her an annoyed look. “She is still adamant about her plan for peace, isn’t she? I am to marry Bellamy?”

“Do not act as though it would be a great burden to marry the man you love, Clarke,” Lincoln snapped, and Clarke felt a sharp pang in her chest. The idea of marrying Bellamy was a source of pain for Clarke. She knew that any misstep she made could land her back in Polis as his wife, thus condemning Bellamy to ultimately be murdered by her step-father. And now, she failed Bellamy. She tried her best to get away, but she was still dragged back to court.

“My step-father plans to murder him after we are wed, Lincoln,” Clarke whispered, looking down at her hands.

The two of them sat there in silence for a few moments, and Clarke let her thoughts drift back to Bellamy. It would not be long until he found out she had returned. She feared he would be upset to learn that she failed, that he would panic about the danger he and his sister were now in. And as much as Clarke longed to see Bellamy again, she never wanted to see him again like this. Not with his entire world about to collapse around him.

“Is the safety of Bellamy the only thing keeping you opposed to this wedding?” Lincoln asked, and Clarke scoffed.

“What kind of question is that?” she muttered.

“I have a simple solution to that particular obstacle, so answer my question,” Lincoln smirked, and Clarke furrowed her brows.

“What is your solution?”

“What is your answer?”

“Lincoln.”

“Clarke,” he retorted, raising an eyebrow at her. “If I could guarantee that no harm came to Bellamy, would you want to marry him?”

Clarke’s eyes dropped back to her hands as she pressed out the creases of her blanket. She knew the answer to the question. Of course, she would want to marry Bellamy. After everything the two of them had been through, she could not imagine marrying anyone else. Another’s arms would feel cold in comparison, another’s smile would always feel forced. Bellamy could bring her peace by just holding her hand and telling her she was not alone.

Clarke remembered how devastated she was when she returned to the Griffin estate, how the feeling of home she once had was lost. Then, Bellamy showed up, argued with her, comforted her, teased her… and it all felt less empty. And when she had to say goodbye to Bellamy, it was like leaving her _home_ all over again.

“Yes,” Clarke confessed, her eyes tearing up slightly. She turned her head so Lincoln could not see, but he likely already knew.

“The Commander and I hatched out a plan. Lord Jaha and Lord Kane are to sign a treaty prior to your wedding. We have come up with an additional term they must both agree to.”

“Which is?” Clarke sniffled out, raising an eyebrow at Lincoln.

“If something were to happen to you, if you were murdered, the Commander would immediately execute Lord Kane for it without trial. If something were to happen to Bellamy, she would execute Lord Jaha,” he smirked, and Clarke tilted her head back against the headboard, thinking it over. It would mean that Kane would do everything in his power to keep Clarke safe, since her murder would lead to his execution. And her step-father could not go forward on his plan to murder Bellamy without condemning himself to execution as well.

“This will not be public knowledge, correct?” Clarke clarified, since an enemy of Jaha might try to murder Bellamy just to get Jaha executed and vice versa.

“No. Only the Lords and the two of you will know,” he explained, and Clarke let out a breath she had not realized she had been holding. “Now, get some rest. I have to go let your fiancé know that you have returned.”

Lincoln stood up, but Clarke reached out to grab his wrist. “I would like to see him,” Clarke pleaded, and that smirk crept back onto Lincolns’ face.

“I will do what I can for you and your _beloved_ ,” he teased, and Clarke let out a groan.

 

* * *

 

Bellamy felt like he was going to throw up. Although, he always felt like this when he and Marcus were summoned to the Palace. And it only got worse each time he saw Lord Jaha already there, meaning this was a meeting about the feud.

“Should you not be tending to your burnt fields?” Jaha teased, and Bellamy grabbed onto Marcus’ arm before he lunged forward.

“Not here,” Bellamy reminded, and Marcus took a deep breath before straightening himself up.

“I could kill him,” Marcus muttered, and Lord Jaha just started chuckling. Bellamy looked over to study the man. He was far too cocky for someone in this much debt and with a missing heir. Every time Bellamy saw him, he felt sick. This was the man who planned to murder Bellamy. This man was the reason Clarke had to run. Bellamy had made great strides in forgiving a majority of the Jaha side of the city, but not _him_.

“Where is Lady Jaha?” the Commander shouted as she stormed into the room, and the three men bowed quickly.

“She did not wish to be in the same room as the man who murdered her first husband,” Jaha snapped.

“Then, it’s a shame she married him,” Marcus snapped back, and Jaha stormed toward him. Bellamy jumped between the two of them, seeing the enraged look in Jaha’s eyes at the accusation.

“I did not murder Jake Griffin. You did. There was a witness,” Jaha spat. Bellamy nudged him backwards, now keeping both men at arm’s length.

“And that witness just happened to be loyal to which house? Not exactly a reliable witness,” Marcus retorted.

“That is enough!” the Commander shouted, and everyone turned to look at her in a panic. Bellamy let his arms down as the two men stepped away cautiously. “I had hoped Lady Jaha would be here for this meeting since I am announcing the return of her daughter.”

Bellamy’s eyes widened as his lips parted. He could feel his hands shake slightly at his sides, his mind full of questions. After all, there was no way Clarke would come back here willingly… which meant that the Commander found her or something horrible happened to her.

“Is she alright?” Bellamy asked, his voice hardly above a whisper.

“She is rattled. She had been kidnapped by Lord Cage Wallace, which proves that you and Clarke were right about the people who were reigniting the feud between the two houses. It was the same night as the burning of the cathedral, which I can only assume was also Wallace’s work,” the Commander explained, and Bellamy pressed his lips together. He knew that Cage Wallace had not kidnapped Clarke… unless he somehow found her after Bellamy left. “Prince Roan of Azgeda brought her home. You can thank him later, as he is in recovery from a stab wound that he received while rescuing Lady Clarke.”

“If they were right, does that mean there is no need for this ridiculous union?” Marcus asked, and Bellamy held his breath. He knew that Jaha would likely have the same plan for Bellamy… meaning Bellamy _should_ be hoping that the Commander called it off.

“It matters not that they were right. The two of you have continued this war for weeks and I cannot think of another way to put an end to it. So, I am reinstating the order that Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin will be wed,” she replied, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut. “This will go as previously planned, with one notable exception.”

“Which is?” Jaha asked impatiently. Bellamy slowly opened his eyes, noticing a small smirk creep onto the Commander’s features.

“Bellamy and Clarke are to be a symbol in this city, and that symbol will not mean anything if something happens to either of them,” she explained, and Bellamy realized she was referring to the death threats to Bellamy. “Lord Jaha and Lord Kane, you will both sign an agreement before your heirs marry. If Clarke is found to be murdered, I will hold Lord Kane personally responsible. And if Bellamy is murdered, Lord Jaha, I will mount your head on my wall,” she announced, and Bellamy turned to look at Lincoln, who was smirking in the corner.

“What if one of them gets murdered and we had nothing to do with it?” Jaha snapped, and Bellamy found his lips creeping up into a smile.

“I will do an investigation, of course. But my position still stands. If you want to keep your head, Lord Jaha, I suggest you do _everything_ in your power to make sure the Kane heir is safe,” the Commander replied with a vicious grin. “Lord Kane, do I need to explain my position to you any further?”

“No, Commander. I will do everything in my power to keep Lady Clarke safe,” he replied.

“Lincoln, please escort Bellamy to see his fiancée. Lord Kane and Lord Jaha, we have a treaty to negotiate,” the Commander smirked, and Bellamy could not help but look a bit smug as he brushed past Lord Jaha.

“Whose brilliant idea was that?” Bellamy whispered to Lincoln as they made their way toward the stairs.

“Mine. There is something oddly poetic about it, don’t you think?” he smirked. Bellamy rolled his eyes but could not help but be amused by how much it angered Jaha to have his life tied to Bellamy’s. Jaha would have to order everyone loyal to him to stay away from Bellamy… he would have to devote his life to making sure that his worst enemy stayed alive so that he may too.

“How is Clarke?”

“Very upset about being back in Polis. Distressed over what all has happened in her absence. She has a slight head injury, but as long as she stays in bed and rests, she should be fine in time for your wedding,” Lincoln replied, and Bellamy’s chest warmed at the mention of his _wedding_.

It was odd to be able to think about marrying Clarke without a sense of dread. At first, it was just that he did not want to marry her, that he could not stand her. Then, it became clear that marrying her would endanger his life. And when he was finally in a place where marrying Clarke did not seem to be the burden he originally thought, he found out about her step-father’s plan. Now, none of those concerns were valid. Sure, there would be heavy risks involved if they married, since they come from opposing houses.

But for the very first time, Bellamy could admit to himself that he wanted to marry her. If he married her, he could have a lifetime of those teasing blue eyes. He could know what it was like to hold Clarke longer than he did the night she said goodbye. He could stop imagining what those lips would feel like against his and finally feel it for himself. He could say all the words he was too scared to last time he saw her.

He could _love_ her.

Lincoln did not enter with Bellamy when they got to the room Clarke was staying in. Instead, Lincoln closed the door softly, as Bellamy stood near the entrance, gazing over at where Clarke was fast asleep in bed. Her golden hair was tussled across the pillowcases, her skin a little paler than he was used to. He saw a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing too bad… nothing to indicate that she had truly been hurt, which was a relief.

“Clarke,” he whispered as he approached her, and a soft hum fell from her lips. Her eyes were still closed, but he could see her starting to stir. Slowly, he sat down on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing a few of her curls out of her face. Selfishly, he let his thumb rest along her cheek, feeling the soft skin below the pad of his thumb. He had forgotten how soft she was, how warm her skin felt against his.

He leaned forward, pressing a slow kiss to her forehead. He could not help himself, not when she looked so beautiful and at peace. He thought he knew how much he missed her before, but he was mistaken. He did not fully understand the weight of her leaving until that weight finally fell from his shoulders as he saw her again. It was as if he had been returned as well. He felt more like himself, less hollow.

As he pulled away, he could see a small smile forming on Clarke’s lips. His heart fluttered at the sweet sight, wondering how many times he would be able to see Clarke smile like that in their life together.

 

* * *

 

Clarke was scared to open her eyes. She could feel the gentle touches to her cheek, the gentle kiss to her forehead… she could hear the soft sighs. She knew it was Bellamy, but she was scared it was a dream. She was scared she would open her eyes and it wouldn’t be him.

She finally opened her eyes, and there were the same brown eyes that she had been thinking of for the past few weeks. His hair was longer than when she last saw him, but not by much. He looked a bit tired… which given what all Lincoln had told her about what had happened in Polis since she left, she understood.

“Bet you never thought you would see me again,” she teased, and Bellamy swallowed, ducking his head a bit with a small smirk. “I am sorry I failed,” she apologized. Even with Lincoln and Lexa’s new addition to the treaty, Bellamy would likely never be safe. Nor would Clarke.

Bellamy’s eyes shot up to meet hers, widening for a brief moment. “It is not your fault. But what happened? The Commander said Cage Wallace kidnapped you,” he explained, and Clarke’s lips twitched at the mention of that name. The memory of seeing his dead body beside her in that room flashed through her mind, and she felt herself shivering in response.

Then, she felt Bellamy’s hands on hers, squeezing them reassuringly. She let her eyes meet his again, seeing a concerned look on his face. “I was on a boat toward Floukru. Once I got off the boat, I was assured that no one could drag me back to Polis. But I never got off the boat,” Clarke explained, and she felt his thumb stroke circles into her wrist sweetly. “Roan and his men made sure I never got off the boat.”

“The Azgedan prince?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke nodded. “I have not met him yet. The Commander says he is recovering from a stab wound.”

Clarke could not help but smirk at that, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow at her. “I might have been the one to stab him,” Clarke admitted, and Bellamy started chuckling. She couldn’t help but smile at how warm his laugh was as it filled the room. God, she had missed that laugh and the smile that came with it. “I was trying to get away. If I had known that he had other men helping him, I would not have bothered… or at least would have taken the time to actually kill him.”

His chuckle was still going strong as he threw his head back, shaking his head slightly in the process. Clarke could feel her grin grow as she watched him try to calm himself down, momentarily forgetting the dire situation the two of them were still in.

“You were away from me for only weeks and you somehow got yourself into a situation where you needed to stab a prince,” he teased, and Clarke felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. “I do not know how you managed to survive without me before we met.”

“Nor do I,” Clarke blurted out a bit too seriously. The weight of those words that slipped so easily from her lips did not hit her until Bellamy’s eyes widened at her curiously.

“Clarke,” he whispered, and Clarke’s eyes flew downward, now staring at the sight of her small hands in Bellamy’s. It felt so natural that she had nearly forgotten he was holding her hands.

“Uh, Cage Wallace was already dead when Roan found me,” Clarke changed the subject, though she could feel Bellamy’s eyes gazing intently at her. “Apparently, my step-father paid him handsomely to make sure the Commander never found out I willingly ran. I think Roan killed Wallace to frame him for my kidnapping.”

“It makes sense, especially since we knew Wallace was involved with this plan to keep the two houses at war,” Bellamy sighed, and Clarke nodded along. “But we have lost our only connection to the person actually responsible for it.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke whispered, forcing herself to look back up at him. “We may not be able to find who is responsible. We may never find this ‘other’ Commander.”

“I know,” he replied with a confusion expression on his face. He sounded a bit disappointed, of course. They were both disappointed. There was still someone out there who wanted to keep the houses fighting, which meant that the new “symbols for peace” in Polis would be in constant danger. “Our wedding is to be at the end of the week, Clarke.”

Clarke held her breath. It was not like Clarke could run again. She would be lucky to have a single moment alone again after disappearing for so long. And Bellamy would not run, not without Octavia. Cage Wallace, their only living connection to the “other” Commander, was dead. Anything she could think of to prevent this wedding would not work. She had run out of time.

“I think the addition to the peace treaty will work,” Bellamy said, as if he were reading her own panicked thoughts. Clarke glanced down, realizing she was squeezing a little too hard onto Bellamy’s hands. “And with your permission, I would like to request one more precaution from the Commander.”

Clarke glanced up at him, realizing that he was giving in… that he was not trying to come up with a plan to get out of the marriage, but instead a plan to make the marriage work.

“I think the two of us should be under the Palace’s protection. Before and after the wedding… for however long it takes for the Commander to get Polis back under control. And I think she will agree, since her new symbol for peace means nothing if one or both of us gets killed,” he explained, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him.

“Bellamy, you do not want to marry me, remember?” she reminded, thinking back to all the times he would scoff when someone mentioned their wedding or how he acted repulsed by the idea of becoming her husband. Sure, the two of them had grown closer since then, but his feelings toward the issue might not have changed. “Do you not want to come up with a way to fight back against this?”

He blinked a few times, studying her face closely. After a few beats, his eyes drifted to look at the rest of the room. Clarke finally sat herself up, trying to make sense of Bellamy’s sudden shift.

“If you truly want to fight back against the wedding, then I will help you,” he replied, not even looking at Clarke as he spoke.

“Bell,” Clarke whispered, and his head jerked in her direction again, his eyes softening as he gazed back at her. Her chest bloomed with warmth as he looked at her, a feeling she had only had a small taste of before she left Polis… but it was stronger than ever now. “What do _you_ want?” He was careful not to specify what he wanted before, she noticed. He was turning her questions back around on her, finding a way not to answer them for himself.

“I want to live safely in Polis again,” he huffed. “You have been gone, Clarke. You have no idea what it has been like these past few weeks. If there is a chance that a symbol of peace and unity could lower the violence between the houses, then we should go through with it.”

Clarke was not sure what she was hoping he would say… but that was not it. Maybe she wanted him to just say that he wanted to marry her… no political or advantageous reason… just that he wanted to be her husband. It was silly for Clarke to think that Bellamy would actually say that. It was not like Clarke was willing to say she would want to be his wife. It was finally settling in that perhaps he interpreted their closeness differently, that she was his partner in all this but not the kind he could ever love.

After all, the two of them were never _supposed_ to end up together. They were thrown together. They found themselves in similar circumstances where the only person they could trust was each other. Of course, they found a way to be close friends, perhaps even affectionate at times. But they were still just two souls from opposing houses who were forced together. They were not Wells and Vera. They were not star-crossed lovers defying destiny. They were pretend lovers trying to stop a war.

“You are right,” Clarke decided, pulling her hand from Bellamy’s grasp. “We should _go through with it_ , like you said,” she sighed.

“Clarke, what is wrong?” Bellamy asked, reaching for her hand again.

“I am just tired,” she lied, now just hoping he would give her some time alone. It was not like she could share her confused feelings with Bellamy. It was not his fault that he was who Clarke thought of the most while she was away, or that he had somehow become the person she trusted with her life. It was not his fault that Clarke had let herself hope that he might have personal reasons for wanting to marry her. “I think I just need some more rest.”

“After what you have been through, I think that is best,” he murmured, reaching forward to push a strand of hair out of her face. She held her breath, feeling his fingers graze the skin of her cheek. “I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you again.”

When he leaned forward to kiss her forehead, Clarke’s eyes fluttered shut. She could feel her heart start to pound at his tender gesture. It was not like this was for show. There was no one around to see the two of them. This was for _her_.

And when he left, all the confusing thoughts flooded back into her mind. Clarke wanted to _scream_.

 

* * *

 

“Kane’s estate not good enough for you?” Miller teased, and Bellamy let out a groan.

“I am moving to the Palace for my own safety,” Bellamy huffed, tossing a few more shirts into his trunk. Hell, Bellamy should probably be packing everything he owned since he could be living at the Palace for years as the Commander sorts things out.

“I know. I just like messing with you,” Miller replied, plopping down on Bellamy’s bed, and kicking up his feet. “So, how is the soon-to-be Lady Blake?”

Bellamy swallowed, thinking back to his confusing conversation with her earlier. At first, Clarke was all soft and loving with him, letting it slip that she did not know how she survived without him. He found himself beaming at her, grateful that she was alive and safe and here. He was already preparing to confess to her about how much he thought of her while she was gone, how her leaving broke his heart, how seeing her again made him feel alive again… he was ready to tell her how he felt.

And then… she pointed out that he did not want to marry her… before asking if he wanted to fight this. Suddenly, his chest felt heavy at the realization that Clarke may not want to marry him, that she would rather fight this than end up with him. He was careful when he replied… because of course he would continue to fight if she really did not want to marry him. He could not think of something more heartbreaking than to end up married to someone who did not love him back.

He had essentially convinced himself that it was one-sided, that he was the only one who dreamt of the other while they were apart. Then, he saw the way Clarke was looking back at him… and he was not so sure anymore. Of course, there was one way he could find out for certain… but he was too much of a coward to do that apparently.

“She is alright. Luckily, little harm came to her during her kidnapping,” Bellamy explained, feeling his lips tense at the thought of Roan capturing her. She must have been so scared. Bellamy should have been there.

“Okay, you started being broody when she left. I thought that was going to go away when she came back,” Miller huffed, and Bellamy glared at him.

“I have never been broody,” he snapped, and Miller started chuckling.

 “Oh, yes you have. You have been insufferable with your dramatic sighing and the way you got all sad whenever anyone mentioned Lady Clarke,” he teased, and Bellamy bit down on his bottom lip.

“I missed her,” Bellamy corrected, and Miller’s lips quirked up into a smile.

“Because you _love_ her,” he teased, and Bellamy pressed his lips together. “You were so adamant that you hated the girl, and now you adore her. You have no idea what to do about it, and it is hilarious to watch.”

“I hate you,” Bellamy groaned, and Murphy came into his bedroom with a smirk.

“We teasing him about Clarke?” Murphy asked, and Bellamy let out a louder groan. “Do not act like you are dreading your wedding. I saw the way you smiled when Octavia referred to Clarke as your future wife earlier.”

“Stop,” Bellamy warned.

“You love her, admit it.”

“Okay, I love her. Happy?” Bellamy snapped, and the smirk on Miller’s face only grew.

“He still seems a little broody to me,” Murphy mumbled, and Bellamy hit the back of his head.

“Wait, does Clarke love you?” Miller asked, and Bellamy swallowed. “ _Oh_.”

Bellamy nodded in response, since the two of them were finally realizing the source of Bellamy’s frustration. There were moments where he thought Clarke did, but until she said it, he would not know for sure.

“Maybe this is a little too obvious, but have you tried just telling her you love her?” Murphy asked, and Bellamy whipped his head around to glare at him again. “I mean, I feel like that would make your general broodiness go away. Just a suggestion.”

Bellamy let out a huff as he went back to his wardrobe. He knew Murphy was right, of course. But it was easily the most terrifying thing he would ever have to do with Clarke.

 

* * *

 

Clarke could not sleep. Maybe it was the strange palace bed. Maybe it was the nerves about the wedding. Maybe it was her injuries from the kidnapping.

Or maybe it was the fact that she could not get Bellamy Blake out of her head.

It was maddening and infuriating, like most things involving Bellamy. After all, there was once a time she would do just about anything if it meant never seeing him again. But then she spent weeks thinking of him, longing for him, dreaming of him. And she finally saw him again and realized that he wanted to marry her for the sake of the city… which was a noble reason. And Bellamy is a noble man, of course. She would marry him for the sake of the city as well… but there were _other_ reasons, certainly reasons she would list before that one.

If their city was not at war, if everyone was perfectly safe, if they lived in a world where they could choose their spouses… Clarke would choose Bellamy. That is what she realized today. And she also realized that he might not feel the same way.

She closed her eyes again, resigning to keep her mind off Bellamy Blake… but it did not work. It certainly did not help to know that he was somewhere else in this palace sleeping peacefully. Nor did it help to know that in a few days, he would be lying beside her in bed as her _husband_.

She finally sat up, rubbing her eyes tiredly. She should not be surprised. Not a night has gone by that Bellamy has not invaded her thoughts. Tonight would be no different.

Then, Clarke heard a soft knock on the door and was immediately relieved for the distraction. She rolled out of bed and tugged her robe around her before answering the door… to see _Bellamy_.

“What are you doing?” Clarke whispered as Bellamy came in. “It is the middle of the night, not to mention highly inappropriate for you to come see me like this.”

“You and I are well past inappropriate, Clarke,” he teased, and Clarke hit his shoulder. He closed the door quietly, the room darkening as it shut. “I am sorry, but I needed to see you.”

“What is so important it could not wait until morning?” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“I cannot sleep, Clarke,” he whispered, and Clarke saw a brief flash of sadness flash across his eyes. She felt herself stepping toward him, unable to stop herself from wanting to be closer to him. “I just… I think I will be able to sleep again if I talk to you.”

Clarke’s lips parted but no words came out. She had no idea what he was going to say. He could just be wanting to vent his fears about the marriage, since Clarke was the only one who could understand what he was feeling.

“It broke my heart to say goodbye to you, Clarke,” he confessed, and Clarke’s eyes widened. “I never stopped worrying about you. I thought of you all the time. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, and worried for you, and thought of you,” Clarke replied, and his eyes softened. He reached for her hand, and she let her fingers trace over his palms.

“When we were first ordered to marry, we both agreed that we did not want to marry each other,” Bellamy sighed, and Clarke nodded along. “You need to know that my feelings on that have changed,” he admitted, and Clarke’s chest grew warm. “And I would like to know if there is a chance that your feelings might have changed too.”

“They have,” she answered quickly, her voice sounding breathless as she spoke.

He took a small step toward her, his hand leaving hers as it rested on her waist. His other hand reached up to cup her cheek, and Clarke felt like she would melt at the contact. She beamed up at him, his eyes studying hers intensely.

“I love you,” he whispered, and Clarke rested her hand on top of his. She pulled his hand back slightly, just so she could press a quick kiss to his palm. She glanced back up at him, his dark eyes still watching her closely.

“And I love you,” she whispered, watching as his lips formed a gorgeous smile at the words. Clarke found herself giggling from excitement, her heart skipping a beat as Bellamy pulled her in closer by her waist.

“May I kiss you?” he asked, his voice sounding more like he was pleading with her. She nodded quickly, trying to keep her own grin calm… but she could not help it. She was so _happy_.

Bellamy did not hesitate to close the distance between them, gently taking her face between his two hands as he leaned in. Her eyes fluttered shut as his lips grazed hers. The first time their lips touched was too short, too gentle, too timid. Clarke was terrified, and Bellamy likely was too. The second time was more deliberate, calmer, comfortable. His lips caressed hers, and Clarke let her arms wrap around his neck. The third time… Clarke did not let him pull away. She pulled him closer, and in response, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against him. Her lips parted for him, savoring the feeling of his tongue as he searched for hers. She let her fingers run through those messy curls of his, and he practically moaned into her mouth.

“Clarke,” he murmured against her lips, and Clarke’s eyes fluttered open again. “I should probably go before someone catches us,” he reminded, and Clarke’s heart sank at the idea of him leaving her side.

“Can you stay for just a bit longer?” she pouted, and Bellamy pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

“How long would you have me stay?” he smirked, and Clarke bit her lip. She knew he should probably go soon… not that anything would really happen to them if someone caught Bellamy sneaking out of her room. They were going to be married in a few days anyway.

“Until I fall asleep?” she pleaded, and Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Please. I could not fall asleep before. I think I would be able to fall asleep if you were here,” she begged, and his lips quirked back into a smile.

“You, my love, are trouble,” he teased, but Clarke could care less about his teasing tone. She was too busy grinning at him calling her his love.

She tugged him by the hand toward her bed, Bellamy chuckling at her giddiness. Once she had climbed in, Bellamy sat down beside her. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before sitting back up. “It will not be long until I won’t have to sneak in to see you,” he reminded, and Clarke smiled. “We could spend every night like this.”

Clarke let her eyes flutter shut as Bellamy kept talking, his fingers playing with her curls as she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, this may get bumped up to being eight chapters instead of seven. It depends on how the next chapter flows. I'll keep you updated.


	6. Two of the Fairest Stars in All the Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wedding chapter! Mild angst, a lot of fluff, and a nice chunk of smut (if smut isn't your thing, just stop reading once things get sexy. You can pick up next chapter just fine after that). Also, had to up the rating for the smut. 
> 
> Sorry this one took longer than I planned. I've been having a hard time finding time each day to write. I don't expect the last two chapters to take very long, though. Also, I did decide to split chapter six into two separate chapters, meaning we now have eight chapters in this fic. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the cuteness this chapter, because shit is going to hit the fan again next update.
> 
> Thanks for all the love, you guys! Love y'all! This chapter was unofficially sponsored by the newest song in my smut playlist, Church by Fall Out Boy.

Bellamy found himself tapping his foot nervously. He was sitting across from Prince Roan who studied him closely. Meanwhile, the people he actually wanted to be seated with were elsewhere. Octavia was seated right across from Lincoln, which Bellamy _knew_ was not a coincidence. Marcus was to be seated on one side of the Commander, while Lord Jaha would be on the other… not that Lord Jaha was here yet…

In fact, none of the three Jaha’s were at the table. He briefly saw Clarke earlier before she got drug into another room by her step-father and mother. Everyone else was taken to the dining room, and everyone was anxiously awaiting the three of them to join them. It made Bellamy nervous, especially given the threats that Lord Jaha had already made against him. He feared something else was going on.

“How are you enjoying Polis?” Bellamy finally asked Roan, who merely raised an eyebrow in response.

“About as much as one can enjoy staying in the center of a war zone, I imagine,” he replied. “But the weather is far better than Azgeda’s this time of year.”

Bellamy glanced over at Lincoln, who was too busy talking with Octavia to notice Bellamy’s annoyed glares. Lincoln had said that he would find out more about what Prince Roan was doing here, but he never followed up with Bellamy on the subject.

“You don’t care for me, do you?” Roan asked, and Bellamy blinked a few times.

“What gave you that impression?” Bellamy replied with a forced smile.

“Oh, just that I rescued your fiancée for you and you have yet to thank me for it,” he said, and Bellamy clenched his jaw. Over the past few days, Clarke had revealed more and more about her ordeal with Roan kidnapping her, enough for Bellamy to want to run a sword through the man… but he couldn’t. Roan was a prince, after all… a very welcome guest of the court, it seemed.

“Lady Clarke has told me much about the experience. ‘Thank you’ does not properly represent what I wish I could say to you,” he replied, and Roan narrowed his eyes back at him knowingly.

“You are lucky I was the one to find her,” he explained, and Bellamy tilted his head in confusion at the implication that someone else was looking for her. As far as he knew, Commander Lexa had sent no one else out to look for her. Bellamy was about to ask him to elaborate, but he heard footsteps. Lord Jaha paced in quickly, with Clarke close behind him.

Bellamy stood up to greet her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “Is everything okay?” he whispered, and Clarke’s lips forced a smile as she took her seat beside him. Then, he saw Clarke’s mother walk in… but instead of taking the seat beside her husband, she took the one beside Marcus.

“I figured out what Thelonious meant earlier,” Clarke whispered once Bellamy took his seat again.

Bellamy thought that over, trying to remember what “earlier” Clarke could be referring to.

“Lady Clarke, you look well rested,” Roan smirked.

“And Prince Roan, I hear your stab wound is still bothering you. I am quite sorry about that,” she snapped with a terrifying smile, and Bellamy nearly choked on his drink.

“I appreciate your concern, but it takes a little more than a little cut to bother me,” he replied, the smirk now gone from his face as he leaned forward on the table.

“Then, it must have been more than a ‘little cut’ since you have been on bedrest for how many days now?” Clarke smirked, and Bellamy nudged her knee under the table. She was actually grinning victoriously by the time she looked back at him. He shot her a warning look, but he had a feeling Clarke was no where near done for the night.

Luckily, the Commander interrupted before her and Roan’s little spat continued any further, and Bellamy took a deep breath. Lexa started to give the same speech she had been giving this whole time… the one about uniting the city of Polis with a marriage between the two houses.

Bellamy reached over to grab Clarke’s hand, catching a small glimpse of her smile before looking back at the Commander. He had missed Clarke today. The two of them had gotten used to spending their days together, which made it difficult to be apart today when both of them had separate preparations for the wedding tomorrow. In fact, Bellamy had not seen Clarke since last night, when he snuck into her room again.

When Marcus began his lengthy toast, Bellamy leaned in toward Clarke and whispered, “What happened before dinner?”

Clarke swallowed, before leaning toward his ear and replying, “I found out who actually killed my father.” Bellamy blinked a few times, realizing that this meant she no longer thought Marcus was responsible. He studied her face closely, seeing an anger in her tensed jawline that he wasn’t used to… and he had this horrible feeling that Marcus had been right all along… that Clarke’s step-father was who killed her father.

Then, Lord Jaha stood up. He looked over at Clarke for just a beat too long before addressing the rest of the table. “I know that this past month has been particularly difficult for us all. Both families have suffered great losses. But tomorrow is an opportunity to celebrate something truly rare in this world,” he grinned, raising his glass toward Bellamy and Clarke. “May love succeed where violence has failed.”

A few more toasts were made, but Bellamy was too busy trying to figure out what had actually happened before dinner with the Jaha’s. He knew that tonight Clarke would explain to him in full… but it was doing little to calm his anxiety.

As dinner went on, Clarke carried most of the conversation at their part of the table. He tried to pay attention, but he kept focusing on the heated conversation that seemed to be taking place between Jaha and Marcus. The Commander looked concerned but was not intervening in any way.

Once dinner was done, the Commander called all the Jaha’s into the throne room to meet with her. Clarke shot him a reassuring look before leaving with her family, and Bellamy almost felt better.

He spotted Roan moving toward the balcony, and Bellamy followed after him. Bellamy hadn’t forgotten the way Roan implied there was someone else out there looking for Clarke… and he needed some kind of an answer from him.

 

* * *

 

“Is what they are saying true, Lord Jaha?” Lexa growled, and Thelonious shot Clarke a glare.

“I did not kill Jake Griffin,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at Clarke as he spoke.

“No, but he did hire the man who did,” her mother chimed in.

“Abby, you do not know what you are talking about,” he groaned.

“Before I was kidnapped, he told me he had plans to do something similar to my future husband. Implied it would be an easy way to expand his power in this city,” Clarke explained, stepping toward Lexa. “His exact words were, ‘It has worked before and it will work again.’ From what his books tell me, he was in quite a great deal of financial trouble right before my father died. Then, he married my mother and managed to stay afloat for a few more years.”

“The girl is delusional. She was just kidnapped and is not in the right state of mind. I beg you, do not listen to her,” he said to Lexa, but Clarke could tell that Lexa was already on their side.

“Enough,” Lexa groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You are staying at the Palace under close watch until I can make a decision on this,” she huffed, gesturing for her guards to deal with him. Clarke let out a sigh, and Lexa shot her a warning look.

Clarke swallowed, remembering what happened last time she spoke out against Lexa. And she knew that Lexa was in a difficult position at the moment. There was a reason she never punished Kane or Jaha directly for what had taken place in Polis. She couldn’t… not without a riot in response. If she put Thelonious in jail or executed him for a decade old murder, anyone loyal to the Jaha house would revolt. The city was already in a precarious position as it was… Lexa could not just jeopardize the tentative peace just to get justice for Lord Griffin’s murder. At least, not yet.

In a huff, Clarke made her way back toward where dinner had taken place. She caught a glimpse of Prince Roan and Bellamy outside on the balcony and quietly made her way in their direction before anyone spotted her.

“Bellamy,” Clarke said, and both men turned to look at her, Bellamy looking a bit tenser than she would like. “What is going on?”

“Prince Roan was explaining to me that he was not the only one after you,” Bellamy replied, and Clarke stormed up toward Roan.

“Explain. Now,” Clarke snapped, and Roan rolled his eyes.

“I am not sure which one of you I like less,” he muttered, and Clarke hit his shoulder. “Okay, definitely you,” he groaned, and Clarke could feel Bellamy pull on her wrist to get her away from Roan. “There was someone else looking for you, although she had no intention of bringing you back to Polis alive.”

“A name, please,” Bellamy said, his hand resting on Clarke’s back. She swallowed, looking back at his stern face.

“Ontari,” he replied, and Clarke furrowed her brows. She had never heard of her before. “She is quite close with my mother, the Queen of Azgeda.”

“And what did she want with me?”

“You know,” Roan huffed, crossing his arms, “I have heard the rumors around the Palace about what the two of you have been up to. For two people who have been scheming and trying to figure out who has been plaguing your city, you are not very smart, are you?”

“Just tell us,” Bellamy groaned. Clarke narrowed her eyes at Roan, thinking this over. If an Azgedan woman was planning on finding Clarke and killing her… that had to mean she wanted to keep Polis from reaching peace. If Clarke or Bellamy had died, there would be no marriage-based alliance between the two families. And if Clarke died under mysterious circumstances, it would not take long before the Jaha side blamed the Kane side, and the city went to war again.

“Why are you in Polis when your people are planning to attack?” Clarke asked, and a small smirk appeared on Roan’s face.

“Perhaps you are not as stupid as I thought,” he replied. “And they are not my people anymore. More importantly, they will not attack while the houses are at peace. It would be too easy for Polis to defend itself.”

“They are waiting until civil war breaks out to take us all out,” Bellamy realized, and Roan nodded along.

“I have already told your commander all of this, of course. Now, if you two do not mind, this is not how I want to spend my evening,” Roan muttered as he pushed past them. Clarke turned to see him walk back into the Palace with a quiet groan. Then, she felt Bellamy tug at her hand.

“Bell,” Clarke warned, as he pulled her to the far corner of the balcony, one of the few spots where they wouldn’t be spotted through the window.

With a sigh, Clarke leaned her back against the brick wall. Bellamy was looking at her pensively, a question in his eyes as he reached forward to cup her cheek in his hand.

“I think Ontari is the other Commander that Dax mentioned,” Clarke whispered.

“Clarke, there is nothing we can do about that now,” he reminded, and Clarke sighed again. Bellamy leaned back to see if anyone could see them, before stepping even closer to Clarke. His other hand found hers, and she squeezed it.

When his brown eyes met hers again, she whispered, “Just kiss me already.” With a smirk, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to her lips.

“I missed you today,” he whispered.

“I missed you too,” she replied.

“What happened with Jaha?” he asked, and Clarke swallowed.

“I will tell you about that tonight,” Clarke decided, not fully ready for the breakdown that would come with explaining that.

“Tonight?” Bellamy teased, and Clarke playfully hit his arm. “Alright, fine. I _guess_ I could sneak in to see you again,” he continued to tease, and Clarke giggled in response.

“Well, you do not have to,” Clarke shrugged. “I am sure you have a very busy evening planned with your new best friend Roan.”

“The only plans I have are to come and see the soon-to-be Lady Blake,” he replied, and Clarke felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. He brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, and Clarke’s eyes dropped down to his lips. Bellamy started to lean forward again, and Clarke closed her eyes in anticipation.

“Bellamy!” Octavia interrupted, and Bellamy jumped away quickly with an embarrassed expression on his face. “Oh, hello Clarke,” she said with a smirk, and Clarke ducked her head in embarrassment.

“Hello, Octavia,” Clarke replied, the heat rising to her cheeks.

 

* * *

 

“It was something I thought about a lot while I was away. If he hadn’t have said that it had worked before, I probably never would have considered it,” Clarke sighed, and Bellamy ran his fingers up and down her arms to comfort her. Her back was resting against his chest as Bellamy propped himself up against her headboard. “And when I told my mother about it earlier this week, something seemed to click for her.”

“So, he had someone murder Jake Griffin and framed Marcus for it,” Bellamy put it together, and Clarke nodded.

“Framing Kane ensured that my mother never picked his side of the feud,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy kissed the top of her head. He vaguely remembers that this would have been around the time that Marcus was newly widowed, meaning with his history with Clarke’s mother he would likely try to marry her if she became available. Jaha probably knew that. “And when my mother married Thelonious, he got all our holdings which has kept him afloat all these years.”

“What will the Commander do?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke glanced up at him with teary eyes.

“She cannot do a thing. At least, not yet,” she whispered, and Bellamy started wiping some of the tears from her cheek. “She already has the entire city questioning her rule. She cannot afford to have the Jaha’s rioting against her if she punishes Thelonious.”

Bellamy let out a sigh as he rested his head on top of Clarke’s. He did not envy the difficult position this revelation put Lexa in. His heart ached for Clarke. He knew she had always had a complicated relationship with her step-father, but this kind of betrayal had to have broken her heart. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she admitted, and he tightened his arms around her. “Can we talk about something else? I’ve cried enough for one day.”

“Of course,” he whispered, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “We could talk about the fact that we are getting married tomorrow,” he said, and a small grin started to tug at Clarke’s lips.

She beamed up at him excitedly, and Bellamy’s heart fluttered at the sight. “Tomorrow night you will not have to sneak into my room after the servants have been dismissed for the night,” she teased, and Bellamy bit his lip to hide his smirk.

“And I will not have to sneak out after you have fallen asleep,” he added in, loving the sweet little blush on Clarke’s cheeks. She tried to duck her head to hide it, but he cupped her cheek and held her head in place before she had the chance. “I love you, Clarke,” he said seriously, looking right into those deep blue eyes of hers.

“I love you too,” she replied, and Bellamy closed his eyes for a moment… savoring the sound of those words on her lips. No string of words could ever sound as beautiful, he decided. When he opened his eyes, Clarke had slid even closer to him. He closed the little distance between them, resting his lips against hers gently.

He knew he should probably leave soon, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her. He loved his brief moments with her in the evenings. There was no chaperone watching them, no forced smiles or small talk. Just Bellamy and Clarke whispering late into the night, confessing things they had never been able to confess to anyone else. They cried, they laughed, they loved… they felt peace.

 

* * *

 

Clarke was shaking as Raven tightened her corset.

“With the way you and Bellamy have been behaving lately, I would think that you would be less nervous,” Raven said, and Clarke swallowed.

“Do I need to remind you about what happened at our betrothal ceremony?” Clarke huffed. All morning, Clarke’s mind had been drifting back to all the things that could possibly go wrong.

“Well, your wedding is not happening in the middle of town. The guest list is small and there are going to be guards everywhere,” Raven replied. “Look, I know that this is not exactly how you envisioned your wedding day. But you are marrying someone you care about, and that is all that really matters.”

Clarke swallowed, turning around as she looked at her white dress laid out on the bed behind her. She could do this. At the end of the day, Lexa would do everything she could to make sure that Clarke and Bellamy stayed safe, and Clarke was going to be married to the man she loved. Everything would be okay. She had to believe that.

“Did my mother add more lace to this?” Clarke joked, and Raven burst out laughing.

“No, but she did add more gold trim to it. I tried to talk her out of it, but you know your mother…” Raven replied. “Are you ready?”

Clarke nodded, and Raven helped her get the most complicated dress she had ever owned on. Frankly, Clarke could not wait to get this thing off. Once she was dressed, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Clarke shouted, and her mother came in… her eyes lighting up when she saw Clarke.

“I will give you two a moment,” Raven said quickly, rushing out of Clarke’s room.

“I wish your father were here to see what a beautiful woman you are,” she said, and Clarke’s eyes threatened tears. “Wells too. They would both be so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Clarke said, crossing the distance between them to hug her mother. “I miss them both.”

Her mother gripped Clarke’s face between her two hands, her own eyes threatening tears now. “I know I have not always been supportive of this plan of the Commander’s… but I am proud of what you are doing. Wells and Jake would have been too. Maybe Polis can finally be at peace.”

Her mother helped her finish getting ready, though neither of them spoke much more. Clarke could tell her mother was just as nervous as she was about today.

The two of them sat in comfortable silence as they waited. Minutes went by, and Clarke felt herself becoming more and more nervous. Once she left this room, nothing would be the same. She would no longer be a Griffin. And while she was thrilled to marry Bellamy, she was terrified of everything that could possibly come from their marriage. If it were just the two of them in a normal world, there would not be a doubt in Clarke’s mind. Bellamy makes her happy and she loves him. She would love to be his wife and have a family with him.

Clarke just did not know how long they would get together… since Polis seemed determined to stay at war. A “symbol of peace” could only do so much.

Then, another knock was heard. Her mother got the door, letting in Thelonious. She gave Clarke another look, before leaving the room.

“It is time, Clarke,” he said, and Clarke lowered the veil over her face. He offered his arm to her, and begrudgingly Clarke took it.

“Do you have nothing to say to me?” Clarke growled as he escorted her out of her room.

“No, I do not,” he replied coolly, and Clarke could feel the anger bubbling up inside of her. Here Thelonious was, about to give her away… something that her actual father would have been able to do if Thelonious had not murdered him.

“No apology that my late father could not be here today?” she snapped, and his head jerked in her direction.

“Clarke,” he warned.

“How about an apology for bringing me into this? I was never supposed to be a Jaha. I was supposed to live out my life as a Griffin, completely outside this feud. And now I am a pawn in the feud, because of you,” she huffed, and he halted them.

“I am sorry that you have to be Jaha. But you will only be one for a few minutes longer,” he replied, before moving forward again. “And you have my word that I will do nothing to harm you or Bellamy.”

“Your word means nothing to me,” Clarke muttered. They made the rest of the walk in silence. The ceremony was taking place in the chapel, which was toward the back of the Palace. It was spacious enough to hold every nobleman in the city and a few ambassadors.

Clarke felt herself start to shake again as they reached the chapel doors. She sucked in a breath when they opened. Her mind flashed back to Friar Titus’ chapel the night that Wells and Vera married in secret, remembering all the candles lit. Like right now, the silence was deafening then too.

Clarke’s eyes immediately found Bellamy, who was staring back at her with a similarly nervous expression on his face. Clarke fought the urge she had to look around at everyone there, surveying potential threats… it would not do her any good. She needed to trust that she and Bellamy were safe right now. So, she kept her eyes on the only person in this room she actually trusted… Bellamy.

Clarke found herself feeling jealous of Wells for a moment. His marriage was completely private, a celebration of the love he felt. But for Clarke… this was a spectacle. Everyone was too busy cheering for the peace that this marriage could bring that it overshadowed the fact that Bellamy and Clarke had actually fallen in love with each other. Right now, all she wanted was for it to just be the two of them.

When she finally reached the end, Thelonious stopped her to lift her veil. Clarke kept her eyes on Bellamy, trying to ignore the fact that there was a single other person in this room.

When Bellamy held his hand out, Clarke shakily took it. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, and Clarke felt her shoulders relax at the gesture.

The priest began the ceremony, but Clarke was hardly paying attention. She was too busy trying to remember to breathe.

“It is just us,” Bellamy whispered quietly enough that only Clarke could hear him. “Pretend the rest of them are not here. It is just you and me.”

Clarke stole a glance at him, seeing that he was staring right at her with those wide eyes of his. She offered him a small smile, and she was relieved when she saw that smirk of his in return.

The ceremony itself was rather long. There were several prayers and blessings, along with various sets of vows that Bellamy and Clarke had to recite. Luckily, they had practiced enough in the last week to have this part down.

As they reached the end, Clarke was now facing Bellamy… which meant she could see some of her family out of the corner of her eye. She kept her eyes firmly on Bellamy, reminding herself that even though this ceremony was for all of Polis… to Bellamy and Clarke, it was just _for them_. This was Clarke agreeing to marry Bellamy, who has been her partner in this since the beginning. He was there the night Wells and Vera married. He tried to help them as much as Clarke did. He was the only person who could ever understand what happened between them, and Clarke needed him. And despite how desperately they did not want to be thrown into Wells and Vera’s place, they had become everything to each other. Bellamy had never once let Clarke down. He protected her, he comforted her, he loved her… and she loved him in return.

For the first time, Clarke felt like she understood why Wells ran off to marry Vera, why he risked everything to come back and say goodbye to her… Clarke would do anything for Bellamy, and she was certain that he felt the same way about her.

Then, Bellamy stepped forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips… one that was quite similar to the first one they shared just days ago. Next thing Clarke knew, he was leading her back down the aisle.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, and a relieved giggle escaped her lips.

“Were you not terrified to be up there?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy threw his head back with a smirk.

“Of course, I was. I really was not sure if we would live long enough to make it through that ceremony,” he replied, and Clarke let out a breath. At least she was not the only one. Once they made it past the doors, Bellamy tugged her to the left… which he was not supposed to do.

“Bellamy,” Clarke whispered, and there was a smirk on his lips. He pulled her behind one of the columns before crashing his lips onto hers. There was nothing chaste about this kiss as he pushed her up against the column, her fingers finding their way into his curls as she tugged him closer.

“At least if I get murdered, I’ll die as your _husband_ now,” he teased, and Clarke hit his shoulder.

“Do not joke about that. Nothing is happening to you,” Clarke huffed as he peppered her face with kisses.

“Is that an order?” he teased, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him.

“Yes, it is,” Clarke decided, and his smirk grew. “And I suggest you follow this order, since it’s coming from your _wife_.”

Clarke did not miss the way his eyes lit up at that word, and her stomach fluttered at the sight. “Anything for you, Lady Blake,” he replied before pressing his lips against hers.

 

* * *

 

He could not stop looking at Clarke. She was always beautiful, of course… but today she was just radiating warmth. He found himself playing with her hand as they sat through more toasts. And when she smiled in his direction, it nearly made his heart give out.

Bellamy could not believe they were _here_. That just hours ago he married her, and nothing had gone wrong yet. That he could call Clarke his _wife_. That any of this was real when just months ago he was still a servant at the Kane estate.

In general, everyone seemed to be in a good mood at the reception. The Commander was pulled away a while ago, but other than that… everything seemed to be running smoothly. He and Clarke danced a few times, but for the most part, they stayed seated together and watched everyone else. Occasionally, Bellamy would steal a kiss, enjoying the way Clarke’s cheeks got red every time he did.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, letting his arm wrap around her waist to pull her closer to him. Her blue eyes met his, a soft smile on her lips. “How did I get so lucky?”

“We were forcibly engaged to stop a war, remember?” she teased, leaning into him a bit more.

“How could I forget? After all, you look like someone who was just forced to marry her enemy,” he smirked, and Clarke scrunched up her face in response. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“How much longer do we have to deal with all this?” Clarke asked, gesturing to the group of people dancing who had far too much to drink.

“We can leave whenever we want. We did our job for the day,” he replied, and Clarke raised an eyebrow at him. “Does now sound good?” he teased, knowing how eager Clarke was to get away from all these people. Neither one of them would completely relax until they were far from all these people.

“Yes. I really cannot handle another conversation with Lady Sydney,” she groaned, and with a chuckle, Bellamy stood up. The two of them made their way to the back door without arousing anyone’s attention.

The Palace hallways were remarkably quiet in comparison to the ballroom. There were a few guards that they passed, but other than that, they escaped the chaos unnoticed. Bellamy led Clarke by the hand toward the room he had been staying in. Clarke’s things were brought in there during the ceremony, since the two of them were supposed to share a bedroom now.

As soon as the door was shut behind them, Clarke wrapped her arms around Bellamy’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. He moaned into her mouth as he tightened his grip on her waist. “I love you,” he murmured against her lips before sucking on her bottom lip.

He felt Clarke cup his face between her soft hands, and Bellamy opened his eyes to see her blue eyes gazing up at him. “I love you too,” she smiled, and Bellamy’s wide grin mirrored hers. He could not believe this was real, that he and Clarke made it through today safely… that she was here in his arms… that she was his and he was hers.

He pressed a slower kiss to her lips, reminding himself that they had time. They were married now, which meant every night would be like this. They did not have to rush. _They had time_.

He let his hand slide up to her cheek as he kissed her gently. “Are you nervous?” he asked as he pulled away, and Clarke’s pale eyes widened at him.

She bit her lip as she studied his face, but ultimately, she nodded. “A little,” she conceded, letting her hand rest over his, “but I trust you.”

He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, gazing back at his beautiful wife. “I will take care of you,” he promised, and a smile formed on Clarke’s lips.

“You always do,” she smirked, and he could not resist kissing her after that.

At first, their kisses were soft… just simple moments of joy that they were finally married. Then, Clarke’s fingers wove their way into his curls, pulling him hard against her as he moaned into her mouth. Suddenly, Bellamy could not deny just how much _he wanted her_ because every inch of skin she kissed felt like it was on fire.

Bellamy kissed his way across her cheek, smirking at how she whimpered at the loss of contact on her lips. But as soon as his lips reached her jawline, those whimpers escaping her lips became hungrier. While the two of them had kissed quite a bit in the past week, Bellamy never dared venturing this far. “Bellamy,” Clarke whispered desperately as his lips made their way down her throat. He pushed her golden curls out of the way, exposing more of her gorgeous neck to him. As he kissed his way back up her neck, Clarke was gripping onto his collar tightly with a soft expression on her face. Her eyes were shut, and her lips were parted. He let his other hand rest on the other side of her neck, gently stroking her jawline with his thumb.

“How are you feeling now?” he whispered right into her ear. Her eyes fluttered open, and Bellamy swears his breath was knocked right out of him as she looked over at him. She had never looked so beautiful or happy in all the time that he had known her… he swears he could melt right at this moment.

“Perfect,” she whispered back, before pressing a slow kiss to his lips. Without thinking twice about it, Bellamy pulled her by the waist as close as he could, enjoying the way Clarke moaned in his mouth as he did. “Bellamy?” Clarke asked as she pulled away, and he nodded quickly. “Do you think you can help me out of this dress?” she smirked.

“Of course,” he stuttered out before swallowing nervously.

 

* * *

 

When Bellamy pushed her back onto the bed, Clarke started giggling. Bellamy rolled his eyes before tugging his shirt over his head. Then, Clarke abruptly stopped giggling as she took in his muscled torso. She bit her lip as she studied him.

“See something you like?” he teased, and Clarke was back to giggling again. With a huff, Bellamy climbed into bed beside her, peppering her face with quick kisses. “Why are you giggling?” he teased.

“Because I’m happy,” she replied, loving the way his eyes softened at that statement. Clarke was not sure her heart could take much more of him looking like that… she might just melt.

“How happy?” he asked, as his fingers started playing with her hair.

“Very happy,” she said before leaning up to kiss him. He was smiling too much, though, making the kiss too messy. “I love you, Bell,” she whispered, as Bellamy kissed down her neck again. God, she could get used to feeling his lips against her throat.

“And I love you,” he murmured against her collarbone, his hand now resting on her bare waist. His eyes flickered up to hers, waiting for an objection… but he certainly was not going to get one from Clarke. She wanted him. She had been thinking about this ever since he kissed her right after their wedding ceremony.

With a soft sigh, he started kissing down her sternum, and Clarke arched into the touch. Her eyes fluttered shut when she felt his hand graze the side of her breast. As he slowly kissed lower and lower, his hand kept getting closer and closer to where she needed it. “Please,” Clarke murmured involuntarily, and she could feel Bellamy smirking against her skin. Then, his hand finally cupped her breast, squeezing it gently.

Her eyes jerked open when she felt his lips on her other breast. Goosebumps formed on her skin as his tongue ran around her nipple. Bellamy’s eyes flickered up to hers with a mischievous glint, and Clarke’s heart started pounding. She pressed her thighs together tightly, trying to get some kind of friction for her growing arousal… but it wouldn’t be enough. She needed him.

When his lips enveloped her nipple, Clarke threw her head back in a moan. Her hand flew to his hair, tangling her fingers in his curls to give her something to hold onto.

She finally opened her eyes again, to see him staring back at her with wide innocent eyes. “You alright?” he teased, and Clarke bit her lip.

“I need you,” she pleaded, and a smirk formed on his lips. A smirk she quickly wiped off his face as she pulled him up for a kiss.

“You need me?” he teased against his lips, his fingers slowly trailing down her stomach. Clarke nodded eagerly, desperate for his fingers to get there faster. “Of course, you are impatient even now,” he joked, and Clarke let out a mock pout.

“Only because I love you,” she argued before stealing his lips in another hungry kiss. His hand cupped her mound, and Clarke spread her legs slightly.

“Say that again,” he pleaded, his fingers tracing her slit.

“I love you,” Clarke complied before sucking on his bottom lip, earning a growl from the back of his throat. Then, his thumb started rubbing Clarke’s clit, and her eyes fluttered shut.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You’re everything to me.”

Clarke cupped his face with her hand, pulling him back to her lips. Between his words and his fingers, Bellamy had made Clarke feel warm all over. Then, he pressed a finger inside her, and a moan escaped her throat. He slid it out before slowly pressing it back in, and Clarke gripped his hair tightly. As he continued this motion, Clarke found herself whimpering into his mouth.

When he pressed another finger in, Clarke threw her head back. Bellamy’s lips trailed up and down her throat, murmuring sweet nothings as his fingers stretched her out.

“Bell,” she pleaded.

“Let go, my love,” he murmured, his fingers picking up the pace as they thrust in and out of her. After a few labored breaths, Bellamy finally leaned up to kiss her lips. He swallowed her moans as she fell apart on his fingers. His hand stroked up and down her side as her breathing became more regular. Clarke was not sure how long he had been peppering her face with short, sweet kisses before the haziness washed over her completely. But as soon as she recovered, her lips were hungrily devouring his. “We have all night,” he reminded.

“But I want you now,” she whined, and his lips quirked up into a smirk. “I have waited my whole life for a love like this. Would you really deny me a moment longer?”

“Of course not,” he replied, pulling off her to get off the bed. Clarke whined at the loss of contact. She turned her head to watch him as he started to undo his pants. She could feel his dark eyes on her, and suddenly Clarke realized just how exposed she was. After all, she was lying completely naked on top of his bed. No one had ever seen her like this until tonight… not that Clarke had thought about that until this moment. She felt so comfortable with Bellamy that it didn’t cross her mind. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked.

A blush creeped onto her cheeks as she watched his eyes rake over her body. She resisted the urge to cover herself up… loving the tender way his eyes looked at her. “You are quite handsome yourself,” Clarke replied, her eyes staring into his. He bit his bottom lip as he looked back at her, his hand unfastening his pants. “I love your eyes, your freckles, your curly hair…” she listed off, losing her train of thought as her eyes dropped back to his muscled torso. She couldn’t wait for him to climb back in bed so she could run her hands up and down his chest…

“You love my freckles?” he smirked, and Clarke couldn’t help but grin.

“I do. They’re perfect,” she smiled. Then, Bellamy finally tugged off his pants… in the least graceful manner possible. Clarke couldn’t help but giggle as he fell toward the bed. Bellamy was chuckling too as he slid in beside her.

“Are they perfect enough that you will pretend that didn’t just happen?” he joked before kissing her cheek.

“No way,” she teased before capturing his lips with hers. She giggled into his mouth as he pushed himself on top of her.

“Please,” he chuckled before burying his face into her neck. “Think of my perfect freckles,” he joked.

“Hmm…” Clarke hummed, and Bellamy’s head popped up with a cute little grin. Clarke let her fingers trace the freckles on his cheeks. “Fine,” she conceded, and he leaned forward to conquer her lips. She let her fingers weave their way back into his curls, as if they belonged anywhere else.

Their kisses became hungrier as they clung harder to each other. Clarke could feel his erection pressing into her leg, and desire started unfurling in her stomach. “Bell, I need you,” she whispered, her lips dragging against his as she spoke.

“I know, sweetheart. I need you too,” he murmured before pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Bellamy sat up quickly, situating himself between her legs. Clarke propped herself up on her elbows as she watched him stroke his cock slowly. She held her breath when the head of his cock was at her entrance. “Relax,” he reminded, and Clarke took a deep breath.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he slowly pressed himself inside her. He was stretching her out far more than his fingers did, but it felt so perfect.

“Is this alright?” Bellamy checked, and Clarke started nodding happily.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded. She opened her eyes as he pressed himself in all the way. His eyes were studying her closely, looking for any sign of discomfort… but this was perfect. Clarke felt so full and happy. It was exactly how Clarke imagined her first night with Bellamy would be.

Slowly, he pulled back out of her before pressing back in. He kept up this slow pace for a while before lowering himself back down over Clarke.

“I love you,” he murmured before kissing her softly.

“And I love you,” she replied, her hands now resting on his bare back. She whimpered into his mouth when he kissed her again, her body shivering when his tongue found hers.

Bellamy continued to kiss her hungrily as he thrust into her, and Clarke was practically clawing at his back because she could not get him close enough. Then, he slowed down a bit before thrusting hard into her, and Clarke threw her head back while swearing.

“I’m going to make you so happy, Clarke,” Bellamy whispered, his voice sounding strangled and breathless.

“You have already made me happy,” she reminded with a grin before kissing his cheek.

“I meant that I was going to keep making you happy. For the rest of my life, I promise,” he murmured, almost pleading with her. Clarke’s hand cupped his cheek, her thumb tracing over his freckles that she loved so much.

“I know,” she reassured, before pecking his lips quickly. “And I am going to make you happy… for the rest of my life.”

He captured her lips with his searing kiss, and Clarke was lost in him. After a few more thrusts, she threw her head back in ecstasy as Bellamy murmured about how beautiful she was against her skin. Moments later, she could feel Bellamy fall apart inside her. His lips were resting beside her ear, moaning her name over and over again.

As they both lied there catching their breath, a soft smile formed on Clarke’s lips. She was not sure she had ever been this happy before in her life. She turned her head to look at Bellamy, who was already beaming at her.

“Come here,” he smirked, and Clarke slid over to rest her head on his chest as his arms wrapped tightly around her. She could hear his heart pounding slightly in his chest, and she loved that beautiful sound. She closed her eyes as Bellamy’s fingers ran through her curls. “Do you know what I was looking forward to the most today?” he asked, and Clarke started giggling.

“Oh, I have an idea,” she teased, looking up at him. He rolled his eyes before looking back at her softly.

“Not _that_ ,” he huffed, and Clarke giggled again. “This. Holding you in my arms as we both fall asleep.” A smile crept onto Clarke’s lips, and she rested her hand just below his collarbone. “I’ve held you a few times when you fell asleep, but I would either have to wake you up or sneak out of your room when that happened. Now, I get to do this with you every night.”

“Aww,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I love the sound of that,” she murmured, and Bellamy’s hand rested over Clarke’s. She hummed happily as she got comfortable. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she fell asleep to the sound of Bellamy’s soft heartbeat.


	7. From Ancient Grudge Break To New Mutiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys enjoyed the fluff last chapter, but here comes the drama y'all love to hate me for. A lot goes down real quickly, and the final update is going to be about as intense tbh. 
> 
> Thanks for all the comments! I haven't gotten to look at all the ones from last chapter yet, but I'm about to get on that. Love you guys! I'll try to get the next update up quickly since I'm leaving y'all on a vicious cliffhanger.

The first thing Bellamy saw was blonde. It took him a few moments to piece together where exactly he was. For a moment, his wedding yesterday seemed like it was only a dream. After all, neither he nor Clarke let themselves actually believe they could have a wedding without some kind of dire interruption.

But here was the proof it was real. Clarke was lying beside him, her bare back against his chest. His arm draped over her, his hand resting on her stomach. He leaned his head forward enough so he could press a quick peck to her cheek.

A sweet hum fell off her lips, and Bellamy couldn’t help but smile. Her eyes were still closed, but she was starting to stir. He kissed her shoulder next, before feeling Clarke’s hand rest over his.

“I know you are awake,” Bellamy whispered right into her ear before kissing below it. He heard her sharp intake of breath, and he kept kissing down her neck as he pulled her closer to him.

Finally, Clarke turned her head to look back at him. The sunlight streaming in through the window seemed to make her blue eyes shine even more as she beamed at him. “I am not sure I will ever get used to this,” she murmured with a soft smile.

“Get used to what?” he smirked, as Clarke turned on her side so she could face him.

“Waking up to you looking at me like that,” she whispered, and Bellamy pushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear. He was certain he had a goofy grin on his face as he looked at her. He was a man in love, and he was so incandescently happy to have Clarke here with him. And his entire body vibrated with warmth at the sight of Clarke gazing back at him with the same loving look in those gorgeous blue eyes.

 He captured her lips with his, wrapping his arm tight around her waist as he pulled her toward him. Another soft hum came from Clarke’s throat as she melted into him. It became hard to keep kissing her, with both their smiles getting in the way. It was messy, far too much teeth. Eventually, they settled on resting their foreheads against each other as they just grinned back at each other.

He was not sure he had ever seen Clarke so at peace, and he loved the sight. After all, in here, there was no feud. There were no politics at play. There were no outside threats. It was just him and the girl he desperately loved.

He closed his eyes as Clarke’s hand cupped his cheeks. Her fingers were tracing his freckles sweetly, and Bellamy couldn’t help but grin at the memory of Clarke confessing how much she loved them last night.

“Please tell me we can stay here all day,” she murmured, and Bellamy’s eyes fluttered open.

“I’d like nothing more,” he replied, before leaning forward to kiss the top of her nose. She scrunched up her nose in response, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at how adorable she looked. Clarke surged forward, capturing his lips with hers again. Before he knew it, she was pushing him onto his back, settling herself on top of him as she gripped his face tightly between her hands.

His hands were running up and down her back as she conquered his lips. A chill coursed through his body as her tongue found his. She let one of her hands brush through his hair, and Bellamy’s eyes fluttered shut at the soft sensation.

Then, there was a loud pounding on the door. Bellamy’s eyes widened back at Clarke, who looked genuinely scared.

“There is an emergency. You two are needed in the throne room,” the voice shouted through the door, and Bellamy gripped onto Clarke even tighter.

“Whatever it is, we will be okay,” Bellamy reassured, and Clarke swallowed.

 

* * *

 

“Tell the Duke that no one is to leave the Palace without a guard,” Lexa shouted to Lincoln as she stormed into the throne room, and Clarke tightened her grip on Bellamy’s hand. Everyone who had been staying at the Palace was gathered in the throne room, including Prince Roan and Clarke’s step-father.

Lexa stopped dead in her tracks as she looked at everyone gathered in the throne room, a terrified panic behind her eyes. Clarke had never seen Lexa this rattled… except for maybe the day that Wells and Vera were found dead.

“There has been an explosion,” she stuttered out. She looked back at Indra for reassurance.

Indra stepped forward with a far sterner expression on her face. “The explosion took place at the Jaha estate,” she explained, and Clarke felt like she would faint. Bellamy gripped onto her waist, holding her up as she rested against his chest. Clarke looked around the room, seeing Thelonious, Raven, Monty, and Jasper… but not her mother. She looked up at Bellamy with wide eyes, and he seemed to have made the same discovery. “The fire has been put out, but we still have not heard if there were survivors.”

Clarke’s eyes locked with Thelonious, but he did not look as concerned as he should. Clarke raised an eyebrow at him, and he just offered a nod in response, which she found oddly reassuring. He must know something that she didn’t, perhaps that her mother was not at the estate when the explosion happened. Clarke had to hope, at least.

“Given the state of Polis, we are ordering that all of you stay within the Palace walls until we get everything under control again,” Indra added in, and Clarke swallowed. Of course, the Jaha side of the city would have assumed that Kane would have something to do with it.

Clarke looked back up at Bellamy, whose eyes were widened. He glanced back at Clarke and whispered, “My sister is at the Kane estate.” Clarke’s stomach dropped, seeing where Bellamy was going with this. If the Jaha’s were attacked, their side of the city would likely strike the Kane side of the city to retaliate. And this was not the burning of some cathedral or a brawl in a tavern… this was a _direct_ strike against the head of the house… which meant those loyal to Jaha would go right to the Kane estate to retaliate.

Several noblemen had concerns that they brought directly to Lexa and Indra, which erupted into a boisterous debate.

“Clarke, I have to get Octavia and bring her here,” he said gravely, and Clarke’s stomach turned at the idea of Bellamy stepping foot outside this Palace. But she also knew that there was no way in hell she could persuade him to stay here when Octavia was at risk out there.

 

* * *

 

“You heard the Commander,” Lincoln snapped at the suggestion that he helped them get out of the Palace. Bellamy should have known this would be his response.

“Octavia is at the Kane estate, Lincoln,” Clarke argued, and Lincoln’s eyes shot over to Bellamy. It was clear that Lincoln had already come to this realization, and Bellamy could see him argue with himself over it. “All we want to do is quickly get Octavia and bring her back here. The Commander never needs to know.”

“I’ll have to come along for protection,” Lincoln said to Bellamy, but there was a hesitation in his voice. “But, Clarke has to stay here.”

Clarke’s head popped up in a panic, and Bellamy swallowed. He had already thought about that. It was too dangerous for Clarke to be out there. Bellamy had gotten lucky in the past that Clarke hadn’t gotten hurt after the betrothal ceremony or when they hunted down Emerson. He was not taking the chance this time, though. “Absolutely not,” Clarke huffed, and Bellamy’s lips twitched. He shot Lincoln a pleading look, praying that he could come up with a good argument for why Clarke needed to stay behind that Clarke would actually accept.

“Clarke, the Commander will forgive me for getting Bellamy out of the Palace, but if I put you in danger, she might take my head,” Lincoln warned, and Clarke’s brows furrowed. “Bellamy, if we are going, we need to go _now_.”

Lincoln stepped around them, surveying the room to see if anyone was paying attention. But the Commander was too busy arguing with Lord Jaha for anyone to notice the three of them.

“I will come right back here, I promise,” Bellamy said, but it did little to calm the panic in Clarke’s eyes.

“You better,” Clarke replied, and he pulled her in for a quick embrace. “Hurry,” she murmured into his ear. Lincoln came back, gesturing for Bellamy to follow. Bellamy pressed a quick kiss to Clarke’s lips before following after him.

Lincoln led him into a back hallway that Bellamy had never been down before. They rushed in silence down a few stairways that were likely reserved for servants. They looked a lot like the staircases he used to use in his years of servitude.

A few hallways and doorways later, and they were outside. Bellamy’s eyes immediately turned to the smoke coming from the Jaha estate, and his stomach turned at the sight. It looked like the fire had spread far beyond what Indra implied.

“I really hope you are good with a sword,” Lincoln said, and Bellamy followed where his eyes were looking. In the distance, he could barely make out the sight of torches and pitchforks making their way in a mob towards Kane’s side of the city.

“If we are quick, we won’t have to find out,” Bellamy replied as the two of them started rushing toward the stable to grab horses.

 

* * *

 

“I want to know what you are going to do to make this right. They set off an explosion in my _home_!” Thelonious shouted, and Lexa looked like she was two seconds away from driving a sword through him.

“We just got word that none of your family was in the estate during the explosion. Everyone is safe,” Lexa said through gritted teeth.

“Thelonious,” Clarke said quickly, trying to prevent him from saying anything else to Lexa to make her snap.

“You should be furious too, Clarke. If today were any other day, you and I could have been fast asleep in that house when the explosion went off,” he growled, and Clarke felt her whole body shudder at the thought. “Your _husband’s_ family did this to us.”

“Bellamy had nothing to do with it,” Clarke snapped, and she could see Lexa standing up out of the corner of her eye… clearly concerned by how Clarke’s conversation was escalating. “And there is no way Lord Kane would do something this stupid when he just sighed the peace treaty _yesterday_.”

“She has a point,” Roan said, stepping up from behind Clarke, and she shot him a glare. She did not need _him_ helping her.

“They burned our cathedral, Clarke. The cathedral our family has been working on for generations. And if that wasn’t bad enough, now they have attacked us directly. Lord Kane just declared war,” her step-father said, stepping toward Clarke with a vicious look in his eyes.

“Cage Wallace burned your cathedral,” Roan said, and Clarke saw Indra drag Lexa away with a nervous expression on her face. Her heart sank at the sight, praying that they did not catch Bellamy and Lincoln sneaking out of the Palace. “More importantly, your biggest threat has never been the Kane family. You seem to forget that Azgeda is just waiting for the two houses to declare war on one another so they may attack.”

Clarke blinked a few times at those words, thinking them over. It was not until the threat of this other Commander came about that these attacks became this vicious. In the past, it had always been a murder here and there, but usually just tavern fights. But the burning of the cathedral and the chaos of the betrothal ceremony were both caused by this other Commander… and so was the chaos that came from Wells and Vera’s funeral. _This was no different_.

“Roan,” Clarke whispered, but he was still going off on her step-father. “Roan,” Clarke shouted, and he turned to look at her with an irritated expression on his face.

“What?” he growled.

“The same people who have been causing all the other riots did this,” Clarke realized, her eyes clenching shut at the memory of what Roan had told her just days ago.

“Clarke, it was Kane. I know it,” Thelonious huffed, and Clarke let out a huff. “He will never change.”

“You will never change,” Clarke spat back. After all, this was the man who murdered her father to gain more power and was going to do the same thing to Bellamy. It didn’t matter how many of his own died including his own son… he was still dead set on fighting Kane until his dying breath. “Forget about Kane for once in your life. We have a bigger problem,” Clarke said, looking around for Lexa.

“Oh, God,” Roan murmured in realization, and the two of them shared a panicked glance.

 _Azgeda_ _was coming for Polis_.

 

* * *

 

Dozens of Polis soldiers were guarding the estate by the time Lincoln and Bellamy got there, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. At least they got here in time to keep everyone inside safe.

Bellamy rushed inside, and Octavia came sprinting up to him. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, thankful that she was okay.

“How bad are the streets looking?” Marcus asked as he rushed in behind her, before joining them both in their hug.

“Very bad. We need to get you all to the Palace now,” Lincoln said, and Octavia broke away from their hug to rush over to Lincoln. Bellamy looked around the house, seeing that all the servants seem to have been dismissed. They were all likely at home, where it would be considerably safer.

Then, Bellamy saw Clarke’s mother step out into the room. Bellamy narrowed his eyes at Marcus, searching for some kind of explanation.

“She stayed in one of the guest rooms last night,” Marcus whispered defensively as she approached.

“Where is Clarke?” Abby asked, narrowing her eyes up at Bellamy.

“At the Palace, safe from harm,” Bellamy reassured. “Everyone, we need to go there as well.” He needed to get back to Clarke. Both their families could rest safely inside the Palace while the guards and soldiers got the streets under control. After all, the Commander sent out almost everyone she could out to settle the riots in the streets. This would be settled quickly. They just had to get to the Palace and wait it out.

The five of them made their way toward the door, but a guard kept them from leaving.

“We need to get them back to the Palace so they can be safe,” Lincoln huffed, pushing past them. The guard pulling Lincoln forward before pointing at something. Bellamy watched closely as Lincoln’s entire demeanor shifted.

“What’s going on?” Bellamy asked, stepping in front of Octavia.

Lincoln began whispering amongst the other men gathered outside the estate, and Marcus stepped outside, examining what they were looking at. “Bellamy,” he said gravely, and Bellamy followed after him. Marcus was staring in the direction of the Palace, and the first thing Bellamy noticed was that the flag was upside down… a distress signal.

“No,” Bellamy murmured. _Clarke_ was in there. Maybe the signal was just because of the fighting in the streets… although, that had never been the case during the past riots. “Lincoln, what is happening?” he shouted, lunging toward him, but Marcus held him back.

“Take a breath,” Marcus whispered, but it was doing little to quell the panic coursing through Bellamy.

“Keep the men we have at the estate here. We need all the others to return to the Palace,” he overheard Lincoln order the guard, before looking back at them with wide eyes.

“The Palace has already been compromised,” the man snapped, and Bellamy felt like his legs were about to give out. _He left Clarke at the Palace_. She was supposed to be safe there. He thought he was keeping her safe.

Bellamy glanced back at Abby, whose eyes were full of tears as she looked back at him.

“There is still a chance we can take it back,” Lincoln growled.

“Not without our civilian army, who is too busy trying to kill each other today. This is Azgeda we are talking about!” the man shouted back. Bellamy’s eyes clenched shut, remembering what Roan had warned them about. Bellamy was so stupid to rush out of that Palace without Clarke. If he had just thought it through, he would have put it all together sooner. _Of course_ , Azgeda was behind the explosion, just like the other “Commander” was behind everything else that had been plaguing Polis in the past few months. All this Ontari person needed to do was get the city in chaos to take the Palace for herself. _And that is where Bellamy left Clarke_.

“You all need to get back inside,” Lincoln snapped, directing his attention to them. Then, Bellamy saw the mob from before rushing toward them.

“No,” Abby snapped.

“Abby, don’t,” Marcus snapped, letting go of Bellamy to rush over to her. He grabbed her by the wrist, trying to pull her back to the house. “What are you doing?”

“What you and Thelonious should have done decades ago,” she snapped, jerking her wrist from his grasp.

“Lady Jaha, they will kill you,” Lincoln warned, but she was already rushing out onto the street in front of the estate.

“No, they won’t,” Octavia whispered right as Abby gestured for the mob of her people to stop. Bellamy held his breath as the large group of people kept marching forward. He nudged Octavia back behind him, his eyes widening as the mob began to slow down.

“But _they_ will,” Marcus huffed, and Bellamy jerked his head to the side to see an armed group of his people marching up toward the other mob. Before Bellamy could say anything, Marcus ran past the guards, who were frantically chasing after him to drag him back to the estate. “Stop!” Marcus shouted at his people, mimicking the same gesture Abby was sporting.

Bellamy wrapped his arms tightly around Octavia, the two of them holding their breath.

Then, _the marching stopped_.

 

* * *

 

Clarke could feel the bruise start to form on her cheek from when the Azgedan soldier threw her into the cell wall. Both her wrists were currently chained to the wall behind her, and she had the misfortune of being locked up just inches away from Prince Roan. Across from her was Thelonious, Lexa, and Indra.

Clarke waited for the soldiers to bring in Raven, Monty, and Jasper, but they never came. Clarke had a horrible feeling in her stomach that they didn’t make it out of the Palace alive like they had tried to.

“I thought they were your people,” Thelonious said to Roan, whose jaw was clenched. Roan looked more beat up than anyone else in there, which said a lot given the stab wound Lexa had.

“I betrayed them. Worry not, I’ll be executed right alongside you,” Roan huffed, and Clarke threw her head back.

“I can do without the attitude,” Thelonious snapped, and Clarke jerked her head to glare at him. “This is not my fault.”

“Yet it is _your_ people who are attacking the Kane estate, which is the only reason my Palace was left without enough guards to fend off the Azgedans,” Lexa growled.

“My home was attacked,” he snapped back.

“And so have dozens of theirs. We attack them, they attack us in return,” Clarke huffed, and his eyes narrowed back at her.

“We are not the villains here,” he growled.

“Says the man who murdered Lord Griffin,” Indra spat, and Clarke felt her chest vibrate with fury at that reminder.

“And the one who was going to murder Lord Blake,” Roan added in. Clarke felt her eyes prickle with tears at the mention of Bellamy. She had no idea if he even made it to the estate in time. With how Indra was describing it, there would only be a small window where Bellamy would have been able to make it there.

She clenched her eyes shut when she heard the door open. She knew it was only a matter of time before the guards came for them. She tried to picture Bellamy, her mind drifting back to the soft lighting of their bedroom just this morning. Even if Clarke died today, at least she had _that_. She had a moment with her Bellamy. That would have to be enough.

“You really thought we would leave you behind?” she heard Raven say, and Clarke’s eyes widened as Raven, Monty, and Jasper rushed in with keys. Behind them, she saw Miller and Murphy keeping watch.

“You should have gotten out of here,” Clarke snapped, but a smile was already forming on her face as Raven unlocked the door. “Get Lexa and Indra first,” she remembered to say, since that was who Ontari and Nia actually wanted dead out of all them.

“Can we trust him?” Jasper asked, gesturing to Roan, and Clarke swallowed before nodding. Indra and Lexa made their way quickly out of the cell, Miller and Monty helping them toward the exit.

Clarke took the keys from Raven’s hands once she was out of her chains, before moving to help Roan get out of his. Jasper extended his hand, which Roan took as he stood up, nearly pulling Jasper down in the process.

“We have to go,” Murphy shouted as he rushed over to them, and Jasper and Raven started following after Miller.

“Clarke!” Thelonious shouted, gesturing to the chains that were still on him. Clarke stood there frozen, realizing she should not be hesitating to help him. But it was _him_ , the man who murdered her father and planned to murder her husband. He was the man who lost his son to this feud yet learned nothing from it. Decades of fighting and he had not changed… not once.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke replied, as she started to move toward the cell door.

“You cannot just leave me here!” he screamed, and Clarke turned back to look at him. “They will murder me.”

“Just like you murdered my father?” Clarke spat back, and his eyes widened in panic.

“Please, Clarke. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he begged, and Clarke felt Roan’s intense eyes on her. “I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you, just don’t leave me here to die.”

“Anything?” Clarke huffed.

“Anything you want, and it’s yours,” he promised, and Clarke felt her own lips start to quiver at his groveling.

“I want my father back,” she replied, watching his face fall at those words. “But you cannot give me that, can you?”

“We have to go,” Roan huffed. Clarke glanced over at Thelonious. She clenched her eyes shut, remembering that if she left him behind to die that she was no better than him. And she didn’t want to be like him. No, she wanted to be like her father, who really believed this city could one day be at peace.

Clarke crouched down, unlocking him from his restraints. “If you _ever_ hurt another soul again, Kane or not, I will kill you myself,” she warned, and he sprung to his feet. He jogged after the others, and Roan waited behind for Clarke.

“What is the plan for once we get out of this Palace?” Roan asked, and Clarke’s stomach flipped. Going to the Kane side of the city was a suicide mission, which meant they would have to hide out on her side of the city.

“We go to the Jaha side of the city,” she huffed, as they made their way into the hallway. It was pitch dark, but Clarke could hear Lexa and Indra far ahead of them.

“Ontari is not going to stop at taking the Palace, Clarke. She is going to take out everyone involved in the fighting on Kane’s side before taking Jaha’s,” he whispered, and Clarke stopped dead in her tracks.

“What are you suggesting?” Clarke asked.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, and Clarke could hear everyone else’s footsteps getting farther and farther away.

“You kidnapped me,” Clarke growled, and Roan grabbed her hand before forcing something into her hand. In the darkness, she could barely make out what looked like a dagger being placed in her hand.

“You don’t have to trust me if you can kill me,” Roan replied, and Clarke swallowed. “We need to take out Ontari.”

“We would have a better chance of that if we had everyone,” Clarke realized, looking down the hallway, but she could not make out a single shadow from her friends.

“What I have in mind requires small numbers, and you are the only person in this Palace that could help me pull this off. I know that Lexa would throw me to the wolves the first chance she got,” he replied. “And you do not need motivation to help me considering your husband will be one of the first nobles executed if Ontari gets control of all of Polis.”

Clarke swallowed, knowing there was no longer a decision to be made. There were no other choices. “Tell me what I have to do,” Clarke said decisively, and Roan let out a sigh.

“You are not going to like it,” he replied.

 

* * *

 

“Get them back inside,” Lincoln shouted, gesturing to Abby and Marcus out in the streets.

“No,” Bellamy snapped, brushing past Lincoln toward the street. “You said you could not take back the Palace without your civilian army, correct?” Bellamy asked, and Lincoln cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Your civilian army is all right here,” he realized.

Bellamy could hear both sides shouting at Abby or Marcus, the same kind of rage that always oozed out of everyone’s mouths when the houses of Kane and Jaha were at war.

“They tried to kill you, Lady Jaha,” a woman shouted, and Abby turned to look at Bellamy.

“No, they did not,” Bellamy snapped, stepping toward them. “Azgeda did, and now Azgeda has taken the Palace, where Lord Jaha and Lady Clarke are currently fighting for their _lives_ ,” Bellamy shouted, his own voice breaking at Clarke’s name. He had no idea if she was even still alive or if she was slaughtered alongside everyone else in that Palace. Lincoln had said that Ontari would try to make the nobles’ executions public to send a message, but Bellamy feared they were running out of time. “Their leader’s name is Ontari. She calls herself the Commander and has been plotting for months to take our city once both our houses were at war. While we are at each other’s throats, she is taking our city.”

Then, Bellamy felt a strange silence wash over the street. He turned his head to see the mob behind Marcus staring at him with terrified expressions on their face.

“Keep going,” Marcus said to Bellamy, and that was when Bellamy realized that for once, both sides were _listening_.

“They caused the explosion, knowing that Jaha’s people would want revenge. Our true Commander, Lexa, sent out as many of her men as possible to keep us from _killing_ each other,” Bellamy explained, now stepping more toward the center of the two groups. “That is how Ontari took the Palace. It was because it was under guarded. And the only way we can take it back is if we all focus our attention on fighting _them_ , not each other.”

Bellamy glanced over at Lincoln, whose eyes were wide as he watched Bellamy. Octavia was grinning ear to ear from the steps of the estate, and Bellamy let out a breath.

“It does not matter if you are a Kane or a Jaha, Azgeda will kill all of us in the end,” Marcus said, stepping toward Bellamy with a grave look on his face. “The only choice is to put aside the feud and get Azgeda out of _our_ city.” Slowly, Bellamy could see Kane’s men start to agree and calm down. He glanced back over at the Jaha side, where the people were waiting for Abby to say something.

“Every moment that you spend fighting each other is another moment where my daughter and husband could be murdered. Our house could be killed off at any moment. If you are truly loyal to the house of Jaha, you will do as they say,” she ordered, her stern glare the exact same one that Clarke gives when she is arguing. He could see each individual within the Jaha mob acquiesce, resolving to put aside the feud for another day.

When he glanced back at Lincoln, he immediately started explaining a strategy to take back the castle. Bellamy felt someone touch his shoulder, and he glanced over to see Abby standing beside him.

“Clarke is still alive. I know it,” Abby whispered, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut.

“I left her behind,” he pleaded, his eyes starting to well up with tears.

“You thought the Palace was safe. I would have made the same mistake,” Abby reassured, patting his shoulder. “But Clarke is smart. She will figure something out if she hasn’t already.”

Bellamy’s eyes drifted toward the Palace, his heart aching at the thought of Clarke being trapped in there. _He left her behind, but he was coming back for her_. _He promised her he would._


	8. A Glooming Peace This Morning With It Brings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, I finally got the final update done. Sorry for the cliffhanger last chapter, but y'all know me... always one for the dramatics. Without further ramblings from me, the final chapter of probably my favorite fic I've ever written.

“Remind me to never trust you again,” Clarke spat, as Roan tied her wrists together behind her back… just like the first time they met.

“You have the dagger. You can get out of this at any point and kill me, although you’ll likely die before you get out of this Palace,” he smirked, and Clarke stomped on his foot. He raised his eyebrows at her, not even flinching. But she could tell by his annoyance that it hurt more than he would ever admit.

Once he tied the knot, he pressed his ear against the door, likely trying to make out how many guards would be at the end of the hallway. After a sigh, he opened the door and shoved Clarke forward.

As they made their way down the dark hallway, Clarke felt her body surge with panic. As far as plans go, Roan’s was the best they were going to get in this situation… but that did not mean Clarke had to like it. With every step, she reminded herself that this plan would give those escaped the Palace time to get far enough away while also putting Roan in a position where he could take Ontari out. But there were a million ways this could go wrong and only one slim chance that it might go right.

“How did they get out of the cell?” she heard one of the guards yell, and Roan pulled her back by the wrists.

“Here goes nothing,” Roan whispered, tightening his grip around Clarke. She looked back at him with panicked eyes, but she reminded herself that Roan knew she would kill him if he betrayed her… so he had no reason to betray her. “The rest of them escaped. I captured the only one I could. I need to speak with the Commander,” Roan said to the men, who exchanged a skeptical look.

The two of them murmured a few things back and forth, and one of them rushed down the hallway past Clarke and Roan. “Come this way,” the other one said.

Roan pushed Clarke forward, and the two of them slowly made their way toward the throne room. They approached Lexa’s throne, seeing a dark-haired woman sitting where Lexa should be… _Ontari_.

“How the hell did they escape, Roan?” she growled, and Clarke looked beside her to see a much older woman with piercing eyes. She glanced back at Roan, seeing the resemblance… which must make her the infamous Queen Nia.

“Apparently, your men did not do a thorough job at collecting all the Polis citizens within the Palace. They had friends who broke them out. I played along so I could break out too, and I grabbed Lady Blake before she could run,” Roan explained, and Ontari’s raked over Clarke with mild curiosity.

“So, this is the Jaha girl I was looking for,” Ontari smirked, now pushing herself off her throne to walk toward them. “Sadly, Roan, she is of no use to me _now_. Neither are you.”

“Not even if she would know where Lexa would hide?” Roan asked, and now Queen Nia was marching toward them with a determined look in her eyes.

“Where is Lexa?” Nia growled, but Roan pulled Clarke back toward him as Nia approached.

“I want assurances that I am not going to be executed first,” Roan spat, now stepping between Clarke and Nia.

“Fine,” Nia huffed.

With that, Roan pulled out his sword, holding it just inches away from Clarke’s throat. “Tell them where Lexa would run to,” he threatened, and for a moment, Clarke forgot this was part of their plan.

“Please,” Clarke begged as convincingly as she could, noticing how Ontari’s lips turned up in a grin at her plea. “She’ll run to Floukru,” Clarke lied, knowing that Indra would take Lexa to the Jaha side of the city before making any decisions.

Quickly, Ontari started shouting off orders to her men, sending them after Lexa. She demanded that they bring her back dead or alive, and Clarke shuddered at her cold words.

“Roan, put that sword down. We aren’t going to kill the girl,” Nia smirked, and Roan lowered his sword. “No, she is quite the valuable hostage. We might need her if the Jaha side of the city puts up a fight.”

Clarke glanced back at Roan, realizing he was right. Roan said his mother wouldn’t kill Clarke right away… although, there was no telling what she would do once she found out Clarke was lying about Lexa.

“Better double the number you are sending out,” Nia said as she crossed over to Ontari. “Lexa will be escaping through the neutral part of the city, and the people in that part of the city will not be distracted by the feud. She could accumulate her own little army as she escapes.”

Clarke glanced over at Roan, who just narrowed his eyes back at her as if to say, “told you so.”

 

* * *

 

“We need to move on the Palace, now,” one of the officers said to Lincoln with an excited look on his face. Bellamy glanced back at Octavia and Clarke’s mother, who were being escorted back into the Kane estate. Octavia glanced up and met Bellamy’s gaze for a moment, offering him a reassuring smile.

“What did you see?” Lincoln asked.

“The Azgedans just sent a large number of soldiers out of Polis. They seem to be looking for something,” the officer replied, and Bellamy furrowed his brows in confusion. That did not make any sense. They had the Palace, they had the Commander along with multiple nobles captured… what else could they possibly be looking for?

“Which means they are vulnerable,” Marcus said, standing right beside Bellamy. “They have less men now than they did.”

Lincoln started barking out orders, and Bellamy took his position with the Jaha men. Within minutes, they were all marching toward the Palace, Lincoln’s men leading the way.

The element of surprise certainly helped them take back a lot of ground quickly. But once the Azgedans caught wind of what was happening, soldiers began flooding out of the Palace.

Bellamy found himself engaged in combat with a particularly formidable Azgedan, out of breath as he desperately tried to keep up with him. He was knocked onto his back, his head spinning at all the swords clashing around him. His eyes widened as the soldier raised his sword, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut… his thoughts drifting to Clarke, to praying that someone made it into that Palace and got her out of there…

But Bellamy did not die. He jerked his eyes open, seeing Thelonious Jaha running his sword through the Azgedan. Within seconds, Jaha held his hand out for Bellamy. He took it, and Jaha pulled him back up to his feet.

“Thank you,” Bellamy said in disbelief. Last he heard, Jaha was inside the Palace just like Clarke. But if he made it out, then maybe Clarke was out too.

“Thank Clarke,” Jaha replied.

“Did she make it out?” Bellamy begged, his eyes looking around for any other familiar faces. In the distance, he saw Murphy and Miller engaged in combat. When he turned his head, he saw Jasper and Monty helping some of the injured citizens of Polis.

“We waited as long as we could. She and Roan were right behind me when we escaped. I don’t know what happened,” Jaha replied, and Bellamy’s eyes flickered to the Palace. _Clarke was still in there_. With only _Roan_ as an ally. “We will get her back,” Jaha reassured, his hand resting on Bellamy’s shoulder as if the two of them were somehow friends. Bellamy cocked his head to the side in confusion, but stranger things had happened today. After all, Kane’s and Jaha’s alike were fighting side by side to take back Polis.

 

* * *

 

Clarke could hear the battle roaring outside the Palace over the sound of Ontari barking out orders for more of her soldiers to defend the Palace. She was too far away from the window to see what was happening, but she certainly saw more men fighting for Polis than Lexa had… which meant the civilian army managed not to kill each other off first on the Kane side of the city. Clarke let herself pray that meant that Bellamy made it out alive.

A small group of men took Queen Nia out the back of the Palace, per Nia’s demands. She was already giving up on keeping Polis, although Ontari was reluctant to appear weak. Instead, she kept sending more of her personal guards out in hopes that it would be enough to fend of Lexa’s army… but without the group she sent to retrieve Lexa, she would not able to keep the Palace.

“Roan, you too,” Ontari said, gesturing for him to go with the men she was sending.

“And leave you completely unguarded?” he asked, and Clarke glanced around the throne room. He was right. Ontari had run out of guards. The group she was sending was the last of her men.

“I will be fine. It’s not like Lady Blake is a threat all tied up like that,” Ontari hissed, and Clarke’s eyes met Roan’s for a brief moment. He nodded, before taking off down the hallway… leaving Clarke completely alone with Ontari, which was absolutely _not_ the plan.

Clarke let the dagger slip down her sleeve, catching it in her hand before it fell to the ground. Ontari rushed toward the window, her entire body tense as she watched the fighting below. Quietly, Clarke sliced herself free from her restraints but made no movements to get up. Clarke knew what Roan’s eyes were asking her to do before he left… but she could not just attack Ontari like Roan could. Clarke had to be smart about this.

“Lexa did not run to Floukru,” Clarke confessed, and Ontari whipped her head around with a murderous look in her eyes.

“Where did she go?” Ontari spat as she stormed over toward Clarke. She pulled Clarke up by her dress collar before throwing her against the wall. Her arm was resting against Clarke’s throat, making it hard for Clarke to breathe. “Answer me!” she shouted, her face less than an inch away from Clarke’s as she threatened her.

“I only answer to _my_ Commander,” Clarke hissed, before pressing the blade into Ontari’s side. She pulled it out quickly as Ontari jerked back, before stabbing her again in the chest. Clarke shoved Ontari back, watching her fall to the ground as she clutched her newest stab wound. Ontari’s fingers were covered in blood as she gasped for breath. “You should have killed me when you had the chance,” Clarke remarked as she rushed over to the window.

The Polis front line had pushed even closer to the Palace, but it was still too far for Clarke to be able to make out anyone’s faces. But based on numbers alone, Clarke knew that there were both Kane’s and Jaha’s fighting alongside Lexa’s army, and Clarke could not help but smile at that. For once, Polis was united.

Then, Clarke heard the most bloodcurdling noise… the sound of footsteps running toward her. Clarke pushed herself away from the window, before rushing down the steps to the lower level of the Palace. She leaned her back against the wall, listening closely as a few Azgedan guards found Ontari’s body. She tried to remember where Lincoln and Lexa would tell her to hide in the Palace over the years.

Clarke vaguely remembered there being passageways within the castle that connected the old parts to the new… the kind of passageways that only servants would use these days. Frantically, Clarke started searching the walls of the hallway, looking for anything that looked like an escape route.

Her mind flashed back to that day that she and Bellamy were lying in the Griffin house. In an attempt to distract Clarke, Bellamy kept talking about literally anything he could think of… including a lot of memories about what it was like to be a servant in the Kane household. She doubted Bellamy even thought she was listening, but she was.

Then, she remembered his story about the time that Octavia accidentally fell when leaning against a tapestry… because the tapestry was not against a wall at all, it was just there to cover a servant hallway.

Clarke scanned the hallway looking for a tapestry, finally locating one at the very end. She could hear the footsteps growing closer along with an officer shouting orders. Clarke sprinted down the hallway, praying that the Palace servant hallways were similar to Kane’s.

When she pulled back the tapestry, there was a small passageway, and she stepped inside. The tapestry fell back against her, cloaking her just in time for the soldiers to make it into the hallway.

Clarke held her breath as they ran past her, her hand shaking as it clutched onto the dagger Roan gave her.

 

* * *

 

The Azgedans that left earlier finally returned, and Lincoln led a small group of men to cut them off before they could make their way back to the Palace.

Meanwhile, the rest of Polis was _so close_ to taking back the Palace. Titus had opened his church as a recovery area for those who were injured, and Bellamy heard that Octavia and Abby were treating injured soldiers there.

Bellamy and Jaha had stuck together, taking out Azgedan soldiers as a team. Bellamy hadn’t seen Miller or Murphy in a while, but he had to believe that they were still in this fight somewhere.

Bellamy heard a man shouting from above, and his eyes drifted up to see Prince Roan leaning out of a window. But in his distraction, Bellamy was stabbed in the leg. Bellamy fell to the ground, and Jaha jumped in front of the soldier before he could finish Bellamy off. He felt someone helping him up, and he glanced back to see Marcus looking at him with panic in his eyes. “Did you hear?” Marcus asked, and Bellamy shook his head.

Jaha ran his sword through the Azgedan soldier, and Bellamy looked around… realizing the Azgedans were beginning to retreat into the Palace.

“Roan announced that Ontari, their leader, is dead,” Jaha said, and his eyes drifted over to Marcus, just a hint of hatred still behind his eyes.

“Someone inside that Palace killed her,” Marcus said, pointedly ignoring the glare from Jaha. Bellamy blinked a few times as he glanced back at the castle. Roan would not have shouted that if he was the one to do it… his people would kill him for that.

Which only left one other person inside that Palace who could have done it…

“We need to get him back to the church,” Jaha explained, lifting Bellamy’s arm over his shoulder.

“No, Clarke is still in there,” Bellamy said, and Jaha and Marcus exchanged a look.

Marcus was about to argue with Bellamy, but he was interrupted by the sound of the Polis army charging into the Palace. Bellamy jerked his arm off Jaha, and he started making his way toward the Palace doors as well, ignoring the sharp pain in his leg every time he took a step.

Then, Marcus and Jaha jogged after him. Each of them helped prop Bellamy up, Bellamy’s arms resting on each of their shoulders. “Never thought I’d live to see you two working together,” Bellamy joked.

“Well, hell froze over, it seems,” Marcus grunted.

 

* * *

 

Clarke stood frozen in fear as she heard the screams inside the Palace. Roan’s proclamation that Ontari was dead echoed through the halls just moments before the stampede back into the Palace.

Clarke had not moved from her spot by the tapestry, fearing that she would get lost inside the back hallways. She had no idea how long it would take for someone to come find her, so it was better that she stayed where she at least knew where she was.

“The Queen has already retreated back to Azgeda with her guards,” Clarke heard Roan say… dangerously close to where she was standing. “There is back way out of the castle through the cells.”

The footsteps grew closer and closer to where Clarke was standing, and she held her breath. Hundreds of footsteps came running past her. She sank to the floor and held her knees… it would not be much longer now. The Azgedans would be out of the Palace and Bellamy would come find her. And if not him, then Lincoln or Monty or Jasper.

She closed her eyes as the footsteps became more muffled… and then she heard a larger number of them come rushing in upstairs. Clarke’s eyes widened, hopeful that it was her people finally. But she was not about to leave her hiding spot until she knew for _certain_ it was them and not the Azgedans, who would likely murder Clarke on sight for what she did to Ontari.

“I have searched all of this Palace. I cannot find her,” she heard Roan say in the distance, and Clarke slowly stood up. “I think she found a way to escape after she killed Ontari.”

“No, she is _here_ ,” she heard Bellamy argue, and she pushed the tapestry out of the way to step out into the hallway. Her lips parted as she looked over at the steps she ran down what felt like hours ago, to see Bellamy, Lord Kane, and Thelonious climbing down them. Roan was following after them, complaining about something.

“Bell,” Clarke shouted, and his head jerked up. His eyes widened when they made contact with hers, and Clarke took off running toward him. He broke away from the others, limping toward her. Clarke nearly knocked him over when they collided, her lips peppering frantic kisses all over his cheeks. Her arms wrapped around his neck as his arms tightened around her waist.

“I shouldn’t have left you—” he tried to say before Clarke interrupted him by crashing her lips onto his. She could feel tears on her cheek, but she was not sure if they were hers or his.

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters,” Clarke whispered, before opening her eyes again. She held his face between her hands as they rested their foreheads against each other. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmured, and Clarke buried her face into his neck. For most of the day, Clarke had no idea if she would ever have him again, if she would ever get to kiss him again, if she would ever get to tell him she loved him again. “I am never letting you out of my sight again, alright?”

With a tearful chuckle, Clarke nodded. “Okay, Bellamy, now will you get your leg looked at?” Lord Kane groaned, and Clarke jumped back, looking down at his leg to see a huge gash.

“You’re hurt?” Clarke snapped, and Bellamy let out a groan.

“It does not hurt that bad. I needed to find you first,” he huffed, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him.

“Honestly, I am not sure how these two have lived this long,” Roan snickered, and Clarke raised an eyebrow at him. “Do not give me that attitude, Clarke. I kept you alive today, didn’t I?”

 

* * *

 

Bellamy blinked a few times as he tried to wake up. When he shifted, he felt a sharp pain in his leg… reminding him that an Azgedan soldier stabbed him. He looked around the room, trying to figure out how he got wherever he was. It looked like a room in the Palace… which would make sense since that was the last place he remembered being. Wait, where was Clarke?

She was not in the bed next to him.  With a groan, he sat himself up… only to hear a familiar soft hum. He turned to see a mess of blonde hair resting against the headboard of his bed. She must have sat up with him and fell asleep.

“Clarke,” he whispered, reaching over to push some of the hair out of her face. He caught a glimpse at the nasty bruise forming on her cheek, and he felt a sharp pang in his chest at the sight.

“Hmm,” she mumbled as she sat up straight. “Oh, you are awake,” she whispered, rubbing her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” he lied, and she raised an eyebrow at him before leaning forward to check his leg. He winced in pain as Clarke checked the bandage.

“You know, you would not be in so much pain if you had gotten this checked out right after you got hurt,” Clarke smirked, and Bellamy groaned.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright first,” he reminded, loving the way her eyes softened at those words. Even in this dimly lit room, those eyes of hers seemed to shine as she beamed back at him. He reached for her hand, running his thumb along the back of it.

“I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you out there,” Clarke confessed, her eyes starting to well up with tears.

“Clarke, come here,” he sighed, gesturing to the space in the bed beside him. Clarke stood up to walk around the bed, but the tears were already streaming down her face. He held his arm out as she climbed in bed beside him, pulling her into his chest. “Nothing happened to me.”

“You were stabbed,” Clarke replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

“And I would gladly be stabbed a hundred times if it meant I got back to you,” he said seriously, and her eyes widened slightly. “But I did not die, and neither did you. We are both here and we are both okay.” He left out how terrified he was the entire time they were apart. Clarke did not need to hear about that just yet. They had an entire lifetime for those kinds of confessions. For now, he just wanted to reassure her that he was here and reassure himself that she was here too.

She reached up to cup his face, and he slid his hand over hers. He lifted her hand up slightly, turning his head to press a quick kiss to her palm.

“It would take a lot more than some war to keep me from you, Clarke,” he whispered, peering into those beautiful blue eyes of hers.

“How did I get so lucky to have you?” Clarke asked, and a smile broke out on his lips as he pulled her closer.

“You and I were forced together to stop a war, remember?” he teased, and Clarke let out a small giggle.

“I guess that is what we did,” Clarke replied, and Bellamy let out a small groan as he tucked his head into her neck.

“I did not think it would be such a literal war,” he groaned, and Clarke let out the sweetest little giggle.

She finally rested her head on his chest, and Bellamy let out a calm breath. His fingers started playing with her soft curls as he gazed back at her. She was starting to drift back to sleep, and he could feel the exhaustion start to pull him under too.

“I love you,” Bellamy whispered, before tilting his head down to kiss her forehead.

“I love you too,” Clarke whispered back. With a small smile, Bellamy rested his head on top of hers. The two of them had been through enough… and all Bellamy wanted to do was hold his wife. Not just now, but for the rest of his life. After what they had been through, it did not seem like too much to ask for. Just a lifetime of holding the woman he loved… that’s all he needed.

 

* * *

 

Clarke was amazed at how well the sculptor was able to capture Wells’ likeness. Placed in front of the chapel where they married in secret, Lexa commissioned a sculpture of Wells and Vera as a celebration of the new unity within Polis’ walls. Clarke was skeptical that it was a true “peace” but it was as close as they could get just months after the attack on the Palace… but she appreciated the tribute to Wells and Vera. Clarke hoped that Polis would continue to thrive in this peace, which would be the most fitting tribute to the spirit of Wells Jaha, in her opinion.

Clarke glanced up to see Bellamy finally walking out of the chapel, clearly in the middle of one of his spats with Octavia. “Is it always going to be like this?” Lincoln asked, and Clarke chuckled.

“Yes,” Clarke smirked, and Lincoln threw his head back with a mock groan. “After you wedding, you and I can have weekly get togethers to vent about what it’s like to be married to a Blake,” she teased, and a loud laugh erupted from Lincoln.

Bellamy’s head popped up, his eyes narrowing at Clarke suspiciously in reaction to Lincoln’s laughter. Clarke shrugged as he and Octavia approached, and he rolled his eyes playfully. “Lincoln, you will make sure Octavia gets home alright, right?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke cocked her head to the side in confusion.

“Bellamy, we are all going to the Kane estate,” Clarke corrected, noticing a small smirk on Bellamy’s lips. She glanced over at Octavia who had a similar mischievous look in her eyes, and Clarke raised an eyebrow at her husband.

“I will escort Octavia home happily,” Lincoln replied, holding his arm out for her.

“And where exactly are you and I going?” Clarke asked as soon as Lincoln and Octavia took off.

“It is a surprise,” he replied, reaching for Clarke’s hand.

“You know I am not a fan of surprises,” she reminded, taking his hand as he led her in the opposite direction as the Kane estate.

“You will love this one. I promise. And I never break my promises to you,” he replied.

“Except for that time you promised not to marry me,” Clarke teased, and Bellamy’s lips quirked up into a smirk again.

“Well, fate intervened there. I had no control over the fact that I was going to fall madly in love with you,” he replied, and Clarke ducked her head to conceal her blush… not that it did her any good. Based on the look Bellamy had on his face, he definitely saw it.

She leaned in to him as they walked toward the Jaha side of the city… well, the former Jaha side of the city. There were still very clear divisions in the city, but the hostility was at an all time minimum. It was safe enough that Bellamy was okay with Octavia being on this side of the city… which was definitely not the case before.

“Bellamy, where on earth are you taking me?” she groaned.

“Have you always been this impatient?” he teased, and Clarke scrunched her face up in response. He leaned down and kissed her forehead before pulling her along, looking more giddy than smug the longer they walked.

When they turned the corner, Clarke knew exactly where she was taking him. “Why are we coming here?” Clarke asked as they approached the Griffin estate… a place she had not stepped foot in since that day Bellamy found her sobbing inside.

“I will tell you in a minute,” he replied, his grin going wider as he reached for the door. He held it open for her, and Clarke furrowed her brows at him as she walked inside.

She was expecting to see the same bare building it had been every other time she had visited, complete with dust and cobwebs… but that was not what she saw this time. It had been cleaned and furnished recently. Clarke turned to look back at Bellamy who was studying her closely. Clarke turned back around and walked further into the house, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. As far as she knew, the house was still abandoned… and her mother would have told Clarke if something had changed.

“Bell, what is going on?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy looked down at his hands and bit his lip.

“Well, when we were first engaged, what was the first thing you asked me?” he asked, and Clarke tried to think back to that crazy day… she knew she said a lot of questionable things to Bellamy… After all, she was furious about the Commander’s order. “You asked where we would live.”

Clarke blinked a few times at him, his words slowly washing over her. She turned around quickly, looking around at the newly furnished home she grew up in. This was going to be _their_ home now.

“It didn’t seem right for us to live at either the Kane or the Jaha estate after everything, and I just thought—” Bellamy tried to say before Clarke threw her arms around him and crashed her lips onto his. He wrapped his arm around his waist as his hand cupped her cheek. “Does this mean you’re happy?” he whispered, his lips grazing hers as he spoke.

Clarke couldn’t get words out. She just nodded frantically as her smile grew, before tugging him back to kiss her. This was going to be their _home_ … and Bellamy picked it because he knew how much it meant to her.

She kissed him desperately, her fingers tugging at his curls because she could not get this man that she loved close enough. “I love you,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering open to see his beaming back at hers.

“And I love you,” he replied, his thumb stroking her cheek.

“This is where we are going to live,” Clarke said, and Bellamy grinned in response. “We are going to live here, we are going to raise our children here, we are going to grow old here—” Clarke managed to get out before Bellamy’s lips were on hers again, this time more heated than before. His hand gripped her waist tightly as he pulled her close to him. Her tongue darted into his mouth, earning a guttural moan from him.

When he pulled his lips away, they both stood there together trying to catch their breath. Clarke noticed another smirk on his lips, but before she could say anything, he was picking her up. “Bellamy,” she giggled.

“Yes, Lady Blake?” he asked, and Clarke felt her chest warm at him calling her that. There was always a special softness in his eyes when he called her that, the same kind that was always there when he woke up first and kissed her awake in the morning.

She leaned up to press a slow kiss to his lips, loving the soft hum escaping from his throat as she did. She buried her face into his neck as he carried her upstairs, wondering just how many times they were going to kiss like that in _their_ home throughout their happy life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL for all the love and support during this fic. It was an idea that had been driving me nuts, so I just had to take a break from Hidden Infinity to get this thing out there. I didn't go as hard on the epilogue as I usually do, but that's because I want to leave this open for a sequel (don't hold this against me, but it's a strong possibility because I have IDEAS). 
> 
> Anyway, this was a lot of fun to write and helped me get through the grieving process of not getting a second season of Still Star-Crossed (tbh ABC is trying to ruin my life... the evidence is right there). Thanks for all the comments, kudos, and support! I love you guys! And happy late Valentine's Day!

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always appreciated. as always, I'm on twitter and tumblr as asroarke. come yell at me if you want.


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